


Harriet Potter

by tinyrose65



Series: Harriet Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Genderswap, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 190,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyrose65/pseuds/tinyrose65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orphaned Harriet Potter is not extraordinary in any way. But when some mysterious people show up at her Aunt and Uncle's and claim to be her parents, she learns of an untold past and that she might not be as normal as she believed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When Everything Fell to Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognizable characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling
> 
> So I'm cross-posting this story over from Fanfiction.net. It's complete, and I'll try to post a chapter a day.

**Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts- July 19, 1981**

"I don't understand," Lily Potter whispered, staring at the old wizard sitting across from her. She was a pretty woman, in her early twenties, and normally the the soft red-velvet couch trimmed with gold on which she sat was comfortable and relaxing, but at the moment, it felt rough against her now sweaty skin. Next to her sat a dark haired man-her husband- with their one-year old daughter in his lap. In contrast to his normally mellow behavior, his back was rigid and he had a firm grip on his baby girl.

"A prophecy," repeated the old man, "Has been made regarding the fate of the wizarding world and the war-"

"Yes," snapped the black haired man, hazel eyes flashing behind horn-rimmed glasses, "We understand that. What we don't understand is what this has to do with us, Dumbledore."

"It has everything to do with you, James," Dumbledore replied calmly, meeting James's heated gaze with his cool blue-eyes."Or, to be more precise, your daughter."

"You can't possibly be suggesting," said another man, this time with sandy brown hair and golden eyes, who was standing tensely next to the couch on which the couple sat, "that a one year old baby girl is going to defeat one of the darkest and most powerful wizards we've ever seen?"

"I do not pretend, Remus," said Dumbledore, "to fully understand how it will happen, but I do know that it will."

"Perhaps," said a fourth man with aristocratic features, leaning against one of the walls of the round room filled with various trinkets of unknown functions, it would help us if we heard the prophecy."

Professor Albus Dumbledore calmly regarded the five people (four adults and one baby) in front of him. The day before had started out normally enough. He had gone to an interview for the new position for a Divination teacher at the school, and had determined the woman to be a fraud, when she made a very real, very important prophecy. As soon as he had figured out whom the prophecy had been referring, he had called these five to his office. He had also summoned for sixth, Peter Pettigrew, who was unable to make it due to his sick mother.

Now, they were in his office at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The room was round and, while it was cluttered, it was not messy. Different magical objects were located on the shelves of the room. Some had been gifts, others were things that the old wizard had found on his different travels. Even others were things Dumbledore himself had made.

This was not, of course, the first time the adults had been in this room. James, Sirius, and Remus had spent many hours being lectured by Dumbledore for their many (and often ingenious) pranks. Lily's time spent here was usually due to her unparalleled intelligence and motivation as a student.

"The prophecy reads as follows," Dumbledore began. He paused, taking a moment to ensure that he had the words correctly in his mind. ""The one with the power to vanquish the the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark them as his equal, but they will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

He was cut off by a small voice coming from James' lap. Apparently, baby Harriet had grown bored of the proceedings and wanted the attention back on her.

"Dubble-door!" She gurgled, reaching out towards the elderly wizard. "Dubble-door! Up! Up!"

Understanding what she wanted, Dumbledore chuckled as he picked up the eager toddler from her father's lap. Giggling happily, she snuggled into his deep-blue robes before seizing one of his hands to examine his sparkly rings. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he gazed upon the little girl, before looking back up at the adults.

"How can you be sure that the prophecy is referring to Harriet?" demanded James, "Neville was born only one day before Harriet, and his parents have also gone up against Voldemort three times, as well!"

"I've already alerted the Longbottoms as to the situation," Dumbledore said, "and they have begun to take the proper precautions and are going into hiding."

Silence rang across the room. The only sound was that of Fawkes, Dumbledore's magnificent phoenix, as he chose that moment to burst into flames. The wizards in the room jumped slightly, but the tension of the room was not gone. Even baby Harriet seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation, for her eyes watered and she let out a small whimper.

"Oh no," whispered Lily, taking her daughter from the professor, "We aren't going to let anything happen to you." Lily gently rocked Harriet until she calmed down. "We are going to protect you."

"Lily is right," said Remus, talking not just to Harriet, but everybody, "Nothing is going to happen to Harriet. We are going to protect her. Thankfully, You-Know-Who doesn't know about the prophecy-" He trailed off as he saw Dumbledore's solemn expression. Sirius noticed it as well.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Sirius questioned, his worry showing on his face. Everybody turned to the headmaster.

"I am afraid that he knows of the prophecy, although he may not know of its full contents. I believe that one of his spies overheard Sybil and I talking." Dumbledore continued, "Thankfully, he only managed to hear the beginning before being thrown out of the pub."

"So..." James trailed off.

"Voldemort has most likely already heard about the prophecy," Dumbledore informed the group, "And, if I were to guess, is already plotting a way to stop it."

"He won't get near her!" yelled James, leaping to his feet. "He won't get near Harriet! There has to be some way to protect her!"

"I have been considering several charms and enchantments that could be used in a case such as this and have come to a conclusion."

"And?" Lily prompted Dumbledore.

"The Fidelius Charm."

"The Fidelius Charm?" Questioned James, "Do you think that would work?"

"I see no reason why it shouldn't," Dumbledore answered. "I would also like to offer myself up as your secret keeper... if you wish to go through with it."

"Of course we will!" Exclaimed James as Lily nodded, "But Sirius will be our secret keeper."

Lily and Sirius both nodded in agreement, however Dumbledore looked apprehensive.

"Are you sure," he said slowly, "that that is a good idea? Somebody within the Order is passing information to Voldemo-" James cut him off.

"Are you suggesting," He said slowly, "That Sirius-" This time James was cut off by Sirius.

"I would never!" Sirius exclaimed, radiating anger, "I would die before I passed information to that- that-" Sirius stuttered, unable to come up with a word that would adequately describe Voldemort.

"I apologize for offending you, "Dumbledore said sincerely, "However, these are dark times. Sirius can be your Secret Keeper, if you wish, but only if you are sure."

"I would trust Sirius with my life."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement.

But would you trust him with your daughter's life? Dumbledore thought to himself.

From the ashes, Fawkes was reborn, ugly and grey and featherless.

Harriet giggled.

* * *

**Lily and James's House, Godric's Hollow-July 21, 1981**

Several days later, Lily and James Potter sat in their living room waiting for Sirius's arrival. After days of planning, they were ready to perform the Fidelius Charm. The charm was designed to conceal a person's location. Only one person would be able to give the location to another, but only willingly. Vertiaserum (truth serum) would not work, although torture might.

The group had decided to perform the charm themselves- therefore involving as few people as possible. Dumbledore, Remus, and Peter all knew the charm was being enacted tonight, but would not be here to witness it. Harriet was upstairs asleep, unaware of what was going on.

The tense silence in the house was suddenly broken by a whooshing sound as green fire appeared in the fire place. Out of the fire stepped an unsmiling Sirius followed by...

"Peter?" Asked James. Turning to Sirius, "What is he doing here? We agreed-"

"I know," Sirius stated, "But I had an idea. Everybody who knows us knows that you would pick me to be your secret keeper. But nobody would expect for you to pick Peter to be your secret keeper."

At this, Peter, who was a short, chubby, and twitchy man with watery eyes and overly-large teeth, gave a small smile, but remained silent.

"You want us to switch secret keepers?" Lily demanded, an odd combination of anger at Sirius for being so reckless and awe that he would be willing to put his life on the line for them in such a way filling her. "But not tell anyone? Do you have any idea how much danger that would put you in?"

"It doesn't matter," said Sirius solemnly, "As long as Harriet is safe."

James turned to Peter.

"Would you be willing to do this for us?"

"As long as Harriet is safe," He repeated Sirius's words, his squeaky, high pitched voice an odd contrast to Sirius's deep velvet. James wouldn't see it now, but looking back he would realize that the words didn't sound as sincere as when Sirius spoke them.

"Are we going to tell Remus and Dumbledore?" Posed Lily.

"I don't think we should," mused James. Seeing Lily's shocked expression, he added "The less people involved, the better and Remus has been acting odd, as of late."

"If you are suggesting that Remus-"

"I don't know what to think anymore, Lily," sighed James, not letting her finish. Even the thought that one of his friends was giving information to Voldemort pained him, as did the act of suspecting them. "Remus is one of my best friends and I hate even imagining him to be working for Voldemort-" Peter squeaked- "but this is Harriet's life on the line and I don't want to take any chances."

Sirius nodded in agreement. Lily assented and the four began.

By the end of the night, the charm was in place.

Lily and James' House, Godric's Hollow- Halloween, 1981

Matthew Evans and his wife Rose watched as their grand-daughter sat, giggling, on the floor playing with the plush dog her godfather had given her. At fifteen months old, Harriet had to be one of the happiest and most loved baby girls in the world. Her parents made sure that she had everything she needed to grow and be healthy. Sirius, her godfather, along with Remus and Peter, her "uncles," loved to spoil her. All three would spend countless hours with her, telling her stories of their adventures at school and playing with her favorite toys.

Today, however, Lily and James had been persuaded by their friends to go out. They were both a bit wary, but with the Fidelius Charm in place, there wasn't much more they could do. Harriet's grandparents had been drafted for babysitting duty- not that they minded. They loved their granddaughter.

"Do you think Lily and James are having a good time?" Rose asked her husband, as she leaned against his side on the couch. The fireplace was roaring quietly, shedding its warmth and casting a soft glow across the room.

"I hope so. They deserve it." Lily and James had left for dinner a few hours ago and would be back soon.

"Yes," Rose agreed, "They do. It is a shame Peter couldn't join us tonight. I feel so bad about his mother." Matthew simply nodded.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Matthew said finally, "Just an odd feeling"

The couple was silent once again as they watched the little girl play with her toys, none of them unaware of the danger they were in.

* * *

**Sirius Black, Peter's Flat- Halloween, 1981**

Sirius Black wandered down the street that same night. As he walked, he passed dozens of muggle children in costume: fairies, goblins, mermaids, vampires, werewolves, wizards and witches.

All horribly inaccurate, he mused. He was currently heading to the flat of his friend Peter. He had finished his work for the Order a bit early, and decided to see if Peter needed any help with his mother. Peter had been acting oddly these past few months, but Sirius simply assumed that it was because of his mother's ailment.

Walking up the flight of stairs to the third floor of the building, he padded across the dirty green carpet of the hallway, until he finally reached the white door with "3B" painted on with cracked gold paint. He knocked.

Silence.

Sirius frowned and knocked again, harder.

"Peter?" He called, knocking more urgently. "Petter? C'mon Peter! Open the door!"

When there was still no response, Sirius took a few steps backward and kicked the door down. He took a step into the foyer of the small flat.

"Peter?" He called out once again, but here no answer. Looking around the grungy apartment, Sirius realized there was no sign of Peter or his mother. In fact, there was no sign of anybody living there. Walking into what seemed to be the bedroom, Sirius got the distinct impression that somebody had left the flat in a hurry: drawers were wide open, clothes were flung everywhere, and chairs were overturned.

Sirius's eyes widened in horror as he came to a realization: Peter's odd behavior...him lying about his mother... his eagerness to be the Potter's Secret Keeper... Dumbledore's suspicions of a mole...or in this case, a rat, Sirius concluded.

"Merlin's Beard," He whispered to himself, before hurrying towards Godric's Hollow.

* * *

**Sirius Black, Lily and James's House, Godric's Hollow-Halloween, 1981**

Sirius parked his motorbike and gazed at what was left of the Potter house. The entire house was in shambles and looked to be badly burned. Throat dry, he walked carefully through the wreckage of the house.

Rose... Matthew...Lily...James... Harriet... Tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked them away. It would do no good to cry now.

"Sirius!" Came a gruff voice behind him. Turning his head, Sirius recognized the large build of Hagrid, the gamekeeper of the school. Wondering how he hadn't seen him before, Sirius made his way over to his old friend.

"Hagrid! What are you doing here? What happened? Are Rose and Matthew...?"

"Rose and Matthew were killed by You-Know-Who." Hagrid said gruffly, holding back tears.

"And Harriet?" Sirius asked frantically.

"Some 'ow- And I don' know 'ow-she lived. Got 'er right 'ere." He gestured to the small bundle in his arms. Sirius, hands shaking, pulled the blanket away from her face, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw his goddaughter. She was upset and tired, but looked alright. Except for a small lightning shaped mark on her forehead. He took his finger and gingerly wiped the blood from the wound.

"Is that where-?" He stopped, suddenly unable to form the words.

"That's where the curse 'it 'er" Hagrid nodded, his whiskery beard brushing against Harriet's face, making her snuffle. "It just...bounced off 'er an' 'it You-Know-Who. Destroyed 'im, destroyed the house, but she's a'wright."

"Lily and James!" Sirius exclaimed, his best friends coming to mind, "Do they know?"

"Ah..." Hagrid looked uneasy, "They know... They came 'ome just as You-Know-Who tried to kill 'arriet. Got 'it with a bit o' the spell and the 'ouse came down on 'em... But they're alive! Been taken to St. Mungo's." Hagrid added upon seeing that Sirius was on the verge of panic.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, he looked up at Hagrid.

"Give her to me, Hagrid. I'm her godfather...I'm the one who is supposed to take care of her if something happened to Lily and-" He cut off again, unable to say his best friend's name.

"Normally, Sirius, I would be more than 'appy to give 'er to ya, but Dumbledore told me to bring 'er straight to 'im."

Sirius frowned, but nodded. He know how much Hagrid respected the headmaster and knew that he had no chance of convincing Hagrid to give him his goddaughter.

"Alright. But take my motorbike," Sirius said, leading Hagrid to the bike in question. "It's enchanted to fly and should get you there faster."

Hagrid nodded his thanks and clambered on.

"Good-bye Sirius." He said. "I 'spect I'll be seein' you soon."

"I suspect you will."

At that, Hagrid took off, leaving Sirius standing in the wreckage of his best friend's house. Alone, the feelings Sirius had worked so hard to keep down worked their way up: anger, sadness, fear... but most of all, guilt. If he had gone ahead and been their secret keeper as planned, none of this would've happened. Hadn't it been his idea to use Peter as a secret keeper?

Peter.

Suddenly, all of Sirius's guilt turned to hatred. This was all Peter's fault. Not his. Not James'. Not Dumbledore's. Peter's. And Peter would pay. Sirius would make sure of it...even if it was the last thing he ever did.

And with a pop, Sirius disappeared.

* * *

**Remus Lupin, St. Mungo's- Sept. 1, 1981**

Remus Lupin sat in one of the waiting chairs at St. Mungo's, head in his hands. How could his life turn around so quickly? Just the night before, he had amazing friends, a wonderful 'niece,' and everything was going well. He had been happier than he ever believed he could be, considering his condition. Now, two of his best friends were lying in hospital beds, nobody sure when they would wake; his other best friend was dead... killed by a man whom he believed to be his brother in all ways but blood.

It was all over the papers, of course. That was how he had learned. He had gone away for his transformation, only to come back and see a paper with the headline :

"POTTERS DEAD? BLACK IN AZKABAN! YOU-KNOW-WHO GONE! ALL HAIL THE GIRL-WHO LIVED!"

At first, he had believed it to be a terrible mistake, but Dumbledore had confirmed it: Rose and Matthew were killed by Voldemort. Harriet survived, but Lily and James lay dying.

And Sirius.

Sirius had betrayed them to You-Know-Who. He was their secret keeper, after all. Then, to make things worse, he had gone after Peter. He blew up Peter (leaving nothing but his finger) along with thirteen other muggles.

After being assured that Harriet was safe at her Aunt and Uncle's, he had hurried to St. Mungo's and had now been waiting for over two hours.

Guilt racked over him like a tidal wave. Perhaps, if he wasn't a werewolf, he could have been there to help James and Lily and to protect Peter, but Dumbledore had asked him to take on a special assignment underground-literally. He was to work on infiltrating the society of werewolves and see if there was any chance of getting them to come to the Light. He sighed. It was at times like these that he hated being a werewolf. If only he had been more cautious as a child and hadn't been bitten...

"Remus Lupin?"

A young healer called his name and broke him out of his thoughts. His head snapped up and his eyes fixed on a stout woman, who was the healer.

"Yes?" His voice came out croaky.

"You are here regarding Lily and James Potter?" Remus nodded.

"They are currently in a recovery room down on the fourth floor. They were treated for burns, bruises, and a few broken bones from when their house... er... collapsed. Thankfully, they didn't get home until after the curse that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named performed was cast, and they didn't get the full blast of it."

"Are they going to be okay?"

The healer hesitated before answering.

"All of their external injuries are healed, but they aren't awake yet. From what we can see, there is no brain damage, but for some reason they are still unconscious. The other healer's can't find anything wrong with them."

"So," Remus choked out, "They might never wake up?"

"There is still a possibility," the middle-aged witch told him, grey eyes boring into his own. "Like I said, there was no brain damage and their vitals are fine. However, as there is nothing wrong with them, the healer's can't think of a reason why they aren't conscious yet. It could just take time."

"Can I see them?"

"Come with me," She said briskly. He got up and followed her, matching her quick pace, slightly surprised at how fast her legs could carry her. Neither said anything as they walked.

"Here you are," She said calmly, stopping in front of a door. Opening it, Remus found himself in a small, clean room. The walls were painted a plain (and ugly) green color and there was only one small window. It would have been rather dismal if it weren't for the fact that the room was filled with flowers.

Lily and James were-no are- well loved.

He drew up a chair and sat down. He would wait as long as he needed to. They had to wake up. They had to.


	2. Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling.

 

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

**"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

 

**Harriet Potter, The Zoo-April, 1991**

Ten years after that fateful night, Harriet Potter found herself at the zoo for the first time in her life. Celebrating Dudley's birthday, Harriet watched quietly as Dudley tapped angrily against the glass of a snake enclosure.

Getting annoyed with him, she snapped, "Leave him alone! Can't you see he's asleep?"

Dudley muttered something about it being boring and left. Harriet turned to the boa constrictor and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about him. He doesn't know what it's like, lying there, day after day."

The snake slowly straightened and winked. Harriet looked around to make sure that nobody was watching her and then winked back. The snake hissed in pleasure.

"Can you- Can you  _understand_  me?" the snake nodded. Harriet blanched. "I've never talked to a snake before. Do you- well, do you talk to people often?"

The snake shook it's head.

Harriet nodded and caught sight of the sign hanging over the enclosure. "You're from Burma, aren't you? Is it nice there? Do you miss your family?"

The snake jabbed it's tail in the direction of the sign. Harriet squinted and looked more closely at it. That's when she noticed more words scratched in at the bottom.

_Bred in Captivity_

"Oh, I see," Harriet said, feeling an unusual sympathy for the snake. "That's me as well. I never knew my family either."

"Piers! Come look at what the snake is doing!"

Dudley waddled as fast as he could towards Harriet, shoving her harshly away and causing her to fall, both he and Piers pressed their faces hard against the glass. The next moment, they were both screaming.

Harriet sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor, both Dudley and Piers frozen in shock. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past her, Harriet could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Burma, here I come… Thanksss, friend."

Harriet, eyes wide in shock, gave a small, "Anytime," and the snake quickly slid away towards the entrance. Harriet couldn't help but wonder how the snake had learned Portuguese if it had been born in England, before realizing that the Dursleys would flay her hide if they realized what she had done (and somehow she knew that this was her fault, even if she wasn't sure how).

Scrambling to the floor, she made looked quickly around the reptile house, whose visitors were still screaming and running in all direction, and saw that Dudley and Piers were still in the tank...the glass had reappeared before they could get out! Aunt Petunia was clawing desperately at the glass, as if that would make it disappear again and Uncle Vernon was yelling at the keeper of the reptile house.

Harriet took advantage of the hectic moment to retreat into one of the quieter corners of the reptile house, hoping to wait out the Dursleys' anger and avoid any punishment. She quietly leaned against the wall, watching as several of the zoo keepers began to try and remove Dudley and Piers from the enclosure, when a small voice near her ankle caught her attention.

"Oi," came a small hissing sound, causing Harriet to abruptly look down. On the floor was a small, orangish-brown snake.

"Oh," said Harriet, startled, "Hello." Then, not wanting to seem rude, "Did you come from the tank with the other snake?"

"Yesss," hissed the snake, and Harriet was pleased to recognize the same Brazilian accent the other snake had possessed. "You arre a ssspeaker?"

"I guess so," said Harriet slowly, because the snake seemed pretty sure of the fact."although I am not sure what that means exactly."

"Itt meaanss, pequenina, that you can sspeak to sssnakesss. It isss an honor to ssserve a sssspeaker."

"Oh," exclaimed Harriet, "I don't think that's-" Harriet was cut off, though, as she felt the snake climb up her leg and firmly wrap its small body around her ankle. "But I don't even know your name!" she argued.

"Isssaura, pequenina," the snake replied, sounding slightly muffled by her pants. "My name iss Isssaura."

"Isaura," tested Harriet, and the snake gave a small hiss of approval. Harriet gave one last look at the lump underneath her pant leg, then searched the room (which had now emptied of visitors) for her aunt and uncle. Dudley and Piers were both finally out of the tank, but they were shaking and soaking wet, both of their shoulders draped in the thick towels provided by the zoo.

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the enclosure," he kept saying, "how did they get in?"

Harriet was smart enough to stay quiet and in the background, but she should have known that she wouldn't get away with it.

Piers looked over at her and asked, loudly, "You were talking to it, weren't you, Harriet?"

Harriet gulped at the sight of her Uncle's dangerously purple face.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey-April, 1991**

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harriet. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He yanked her by her hair and pulled her towards the cupboard, ignoring her protests.

"It wasn't my fault!" she argued. "One minute the glass was there, then the next it was gone. It was like magic!"

If anything, this just made her uncle angrier. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," before shoving her inside and locking the door. She heard him collapse into a chair.

Harriet lay in her dark cupboard much later, talking to Isaura, who had finally come out from under her pant leg. Harriet learned that Isaura was only a few years old and had once belonged to a small boy who had not treated her very well (hence her small size). Eventually, it had been found out and she had been rescued and taken to the zoo. Isaura had also told her what "pequenina" meant ("little one", apparently) and, at Harriet's objections, Isaura assure Harriet that she too was undersized. Isaura asked if there was any way she could be let out to hunt, but Harriet didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food or to let Isaura out the back door.

Her life with the Dursleys had been this way for ten miserable years. She couldn't remember her parents or the car crash they supposedly died in- just a flash of green light and fierce pain on her forehead. She had no memories at all of her parent, and there were no photographs of them in the house, so Harriet knew next to nothing about them.

When she had been younger, Harriet had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take her away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were her only family. Occasionally strangers in the street acted as though they recognized her- did double takes when they saw her, waved at her, that sort of thing. It all happened so quickly though, and Aunt Petunia usually pulled her away before she could say anything. Whenever Harriet  _did_ manage to try and get a closer look at them, they were always gone.

School was just as hopeless. Everybody feared Dudley and his group of friends, so none would dare approach Harriet (not that her broken glasses and baggy clothes leant her to win any popularly contests anyways).

With a sigh, Harriet curled up on her cot, Isaura making herself as comfortable as she could by wrapping herself around one of its rickety legs.

Little did Harriet know, that soon, somewhere far away, a man and a woman who loved her very much would be waking up for the first time in almost eleven years...

* * *

**St. Mungo's - May 23, 1991**

Albus Dumbledore walked quickly through the halls of St. Mungo's. He had received a message just a few minutes ago and had come as quickly as possible.

"Albus!" Came a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw Remus running quickly towards him.

"Is it true?" He fired quickly, "Are they awake?"

"That is what I have been told," Dumbledore answered as they reached the door to the hospital room. "And I guess we are about to find out."

The door opened revealing Lily and James Potter.

Awake.

"Moony!" Exclaimed James as soon as he set sight on his friend. He tried to sit up, but the healer who was bustling around the room forced him back down onto his bed.

"Mr. Potter! You need to rest!" The healer turned to the two new occupants of the room, "You can stay as long as you need, but if they get upset or tired, you will have to leave." He left.

"Remus...Professor," Began Lily. "What's going on? How long have we been here? Where is Harriet? My mother and father? Nobody will tell us anything!"

"Lily, James" Dumbledore spoke calmly, "We will tell you everything, but you must relax. First off, Harriet is fine." When the two nodded, Remus and Dumbledore each drew up a chair. Dumbledore began explaining what they had missed. He had just told them that Sirius had betrayed them to Voldemort when James interrupted.

"But Sirius couldn't have done it, Professor!" Exclaimed James.

"James," Remus said gently, "I know it is hard to believe-"

"No!" James exclaimed, "He couldn't have! We switched secret keepers!"

Silence followed his statement.

"You switched secret keepers? And didn't tell me?" James heard the hurt in his friend's voice.

"I'm sorry, Remus," He said quietly, "We just figured the less people involved the better, but I also couldn't help but suspect-"

"That I was the spy?" James looked down, too ashamed to look his friend in eye.

"You were just acting so off. You kept leaving and coming at odd times and you were so evasive-" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

"I was on a mission," said Remus quietly. James's head snapped up to look at his friend. Remus wasn't looking at him though, he was looking at the wall above James's bed. "I was working underground with the werewolves."

James nodded slowly, "I never should have doubted you. You never gave me any reason to. Can you forgive me?"

Remus looked at his friend, looking more ashamed than he had ever seen him. For ten years, Remus had worried over the fact that James might never wake up, but he had and he was going to be okay. Remus smiled, his joy at his friends' awakening overweighing any anger he might have felt under normal circumstances. "Of course."

"Who did you choose to become your secret keeper?" Asked Dumbledore after a moment, trying to refocus the discussion.

"Peter," Lily told him.

"Peter!" Remus yelped, realizing why Sirius had, in fact, blown up Peter and wishing that he had been the one to do it. "He was the one who betrayed you to Voldemort?"

"He must have been," James said quietly, unable to believe that his friend would do something like that. Yes, he had suspected Remus of working with Voldemort, but it just wasn't as real as having tangible proof of what Peter had done. After all, they had been best friends with each other for years.

"Hmm..." Dumbledore mused, before turning to Remus. "I believe that I have an answer as to why Mr. Black murdered-"

"Wait!"

"What?"

Both Lily and James exclaimed, knowing that they must have had misheard former headmaster since Sirius never would have killed anybody.

Dumbledore explained what had happened to Sirius while they were unconscious: that he had gone after Peter Pettigrew and cornered him in a street full of Muggles. Peter confronted Sirius just before Sirius killed him and thirteen other Muggles.

"All they found of Peter was his finger," he finished.

"But Sirius would never do that! And even if he did, sure there would be some sort of justification due to Peter's actions!" Lily protested, remembering how protective Sirius had always been of his friends and, in particular, how much he loved Harriet. "And how could they be so unfair as to not let him have a trial?"

"Surely there is something you can do, sir?" James pleaded, unable to bear the though of his best friend in Azkaban. Dumbledore considered.

"I suppose I might be able to convince Minister Fudge to give Sirius a proper trial, with this new evidence. Especially considering the fact that Sirius wasn't really your secret keeper and therefore couldn't betray you."

Both James and Lily sighed in relief. Remus looked down at his hands guiltily. How could he have believed his friend Sirius had betrayed Lily and James? Then again, how could he not realize Peter's true intentions? He had seen how the war had torn other families apart, but it was only now that he realized how much destruction had been inflicted on his own (somewhat unorthodox) family.

Realizing what Remus must have been thinking, James reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Remus shot him a grateful smile.

"Now," Dumbledore broke the silence, "Where was I?"

"You were telling us about Voldemort coming to our house." James said grimly.

"Oh!" Lily exclaimed suddenly, "Harriet! Is Harriet okay?" Both James and Lily looked at Dumbledore, afraid of the answer.

"She is fine, as I told you earlier." They sighed and Dumbledore finished telling them about the events of that night. The four were solemn after he was done, contemplating the magnitude of all that had happened. After all, Lily's parents had died... and nobody had ever survived the killing curse.

"So where is Harriet now?" Lily asked after a moment.

"She is with the only blood relative she has left."

"Not Petunia!" Lily gasped, sudden dread filling her at imagining what Harriet's life must have been like living with her dreadful sister and her husband and osn. When Dumbledore nodded, she added "But she hates Magic!"

"I know," Dumbledore responded, "However, I believe it was the safest place for her at the time. At least, from Voldemort's followers."

"Blood protection," Remus whispered. Dumbledore nodded.

"So what happens now?" James prodded.

"The healers have informed me that you are to remain here for the rest of the week. Until then, I will work on getting a trial set up for Sirius." Dumbledore informed them. He turned to Remus, "And I am sure Remus wouldn't mind working on getting one of your houses back to its original state?" Remus nodded and Dumbledore got up.

"Until then."

* * *

**Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts-One Week Later (May 31, 1991)**

Lily and James sat in Dumbledore's office. The last time they had been in here, they had been discussing ways to keep Harriet safe. Now, they were going to discuss ways to get Harriet back. Remus stood gazing out the window at the grounds of the school, watching the sun set.

"Dumbledore is late," He muttered.

"I'm sure he will be here soon, Remus" Lily soothed. No sooner had she spoken when the door to the office opened, revealing Dumbledore. His robes were bright green and his eyes were twinkling merrily. He seemed quite pleased about something.

"Hello James, Lily, Remus!" He said jovially. "I am sorry I am late, but I have been working very hard on a rather special project.

"It is quite alright, Professor," Lilly smiled.

"Lily, please, its Albus. It has been at least fourteen years since you graduated Hogwarts." He clapped. "But no matter! Now that my project is complete, I have something for you. Or rather, someone!"

He stepped aside revealing a man the three others in the room hadn't seen in almost eleven years. He was fairly tall with grey eyes and long, dirty black hair. His skin was pale and matted with dirt and (because he was so thin) it seemed to be stretched taught over his bones. At the sight of the others, the man smiled slightly, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

"Moony...Prongs... Lily."

"Sirius!" Lily exclaimed, getting up to embrace her friend.

"Padfoot!" Cried James before following his wife. Both hugged Sirius and he did the same to them. Remus stood behind them looking on. Both Lily and James took a step back giving the two friends a clear view of each other.

"Moony."

"Padfoot," Remus replied. He looked down at his shoes and then back up. "You've let yourself go." Sirius snorted.

"Yes, well, from where I'm standing, you aren't exactly the picture of youth, yourself."

"Could you ever forgive me?" Remus, said, suddenly, solemn. Seeing Sirus's confusion, he elaborated. "For believing you betrayed Lily and James for all of these years."

"There is nothing to forgive." Both men smiled before embracing like brothers.

"Thanks to the enlightening information you provided me with," informed Dumbledore, "I was able to convince Fudge to give Sirius a chance. He appeared in court, and, thanks to a bottle of Veritaserum, is now a free man. I expect you will be reading more about it in tomorrow's issue of the Daily Prophet."

"But what happened that day?" Remus asked curiously. "When Peter died?"

"I went to confront him about his betrayal," Sirius began, sitting down. "However, before I could say anything, he yelled at me for giving you up to Voldemort. He must have had a wand hidden behind his back, because next thing I knew, there was an explosion and thirteen muggles were dead."

"He killed himself?"

"It would appear so," muttered Dumbledore.

"Actually, sir," Sirius said hesitantly, "I think he transformed." Both Remus and James looked sharply at their friend shocked that he, of all people, would be the one to first inform Dumbledore about their status as illegal animagi. Then again, if Pettigrew really had transformed, it was imperative that the headmaster knew about.

All it took was Dumbledore raising an eyebrow, before all three Marauders were pouring out their story, words spilling over each other, talking over one another. They explained the illegal transformations, the Map, their midnight romps...all of it.

"Well," said Dumbledore, "I must inform the Auror's of this immediately, if Pettigrew is ever to be apprehended."

"You aren't angry?" Remus asked, hesitant. Dumbledore slowly shook his head and the men all let their shoulder sag, visibly demonstrating their relief.

Lily sniffled and bit back a sob.

"Lily?" James asked worried.

"I'm okay." She told him. "I'm just very happy." He nodded as Remus and Sirius sat down next to them.

"Perhaps, we should move onto some other business?" When everybody nodded, Dumbledore asked, "And perhaps we should eat as we discuss?" When everybody agreed again, Dumbledore sighed.

"Now," began Dumbledore, after summoning some food for them since it was close to dinner, "We are all here regarding the matter of Harriet's guardianship."

"Harriet's guardianship!" exclaimed Sirius. He turned to Remus. "Surely she would have gone to live with you, Moony." When his friend shook his head, Sirius turned back to the others.

"Then who?"

"The Dursleys," answered Dumbledore. Hearing Sirius's protests he continued. "It was necessary for Harriet to live with somebody who was related, by blood, to Rose. Thus, the protection Rose gave Harriet -when she sacrificed her life- would live on. Thankfully, it will not be too long until Harriet is returned to her true family."

"Can we leave now?" James asked Dumbledore eagerly.

"I do not think that would be wise considering how you look."

"Well, if you were trapped in Azkaban for ten years I doubt you would look better," muttered Sirius as he took a sip of the Pumpkin juice Dumbledore had procured.

"Actually, Sirius, I was referring to your robes," chuckled the Professor. "When I left her on the Dursleys' doorstep all those years ago, I left Harriet a letter, so she is hopefully aware of the situation. However, there is no need to take the risk and frighten her."

"Although now that you mention it, Padfoot," joked James, "You could probably use a shower." Sirius scowled at his friend, but before he could retort, Remus jumped in.

"So tomorrow, then? We can pick Harriet up tomorrow?" Dumbledore nodded and reached to pull something out of his desk.

"Here is her Hogwarts letter," The headmaster said, "I thought you might enjoy giving it to her early. It also has her current address on it. " James happily took the letter and looked at the words written on it. The others peered over his shoulder:

_Harriet Lily Potter_

_The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

"When they say "cupboard under the stairs," commented James, "I hope they are referring to a cupboard that has been turned into a very comfortable and nicely furnished bedroom."

"They better be," Sirius said darkly.

"Well we will see tomorrow, won't we?" Lily muttered.

Yes. Tomorrow.


	3. Some Things Worth Knowing

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

 

**4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey-June 30, 1991**

Even though Harriet had managed to keep Isaura a secret from her relatives, the escape of the boa constrictor was blamed on Harriet, earning her one of her longest punishments. Harriet spent almost all of her time in her cupboard, allowed out only for school and to do chores. On the first day of her punishment, Harriet had managed to sneak Isaura out of the house, and saw the little snake whenever she went to do the gardening, making her punishment somewhat bearable.

Still, Harriet couldn't help but be immensely relieved when the summer holidays arrived and the Dursleys finally relented.

Her newfound freedom came at a cost, though, since Dudley and his gang were now able to spend most of their spare time doing their favorite thing: Harriet Hunting.

So, Harriet hid. Usually outside of the house, Harriet would wander around and talk to Isaura, telling her about the new secondary school she would be going to...  _away_ from Dudley. Dudley would be off to Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's old private school, and he thought that Harriet being stuck at Stonewall was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harriet. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harriet. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick." Then she ran, before Dudley could work out what she'd said.

Still, as funny as Dudley found her situation, Harriet couldn't help but find Dudley's infinitely funnier- especially when Aunt Petunia brought Dudley home with his new Smeltings uniform.

Harriet managed to hold it in while in front of her family, but the moment she found herself in the safety of her own room, she burst into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

Maroon tailcoat. Orange knickerbockers. Boater.

Harriet had never been more grateful for Stonewall.

The next morning, Harriet woke up to one of the most disgusting smells she had ever smelled wafting in from the kitchen. Harriet at first was worried that Aunt Petunia had tried to cook again, a fear that was emphasized by the large pot of gray mush her aunt was stirring when Harriet walked in, but Aunt Petunia quickly cleared up the confusion.

"What's this?"she asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if she dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harriet looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," she said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet." Aunt Petunia's hand darted out so quickly that Harriet had no time to duck. The slap resounded around the kitchen and Harriet eyes watered from the sharp sting in her cheek. Isaura gave a loud hiss of disapproval from Harriet's ankle, which her aunt didn't hear, but the snake didn't do anything. Harriet had warned her friend about the Dursleys' treatment of her, cautioning her not to do anything that might reveal her presence to them.

"Don't talk back!" snapped Aunt Petunia, as Harriet rubbed her cheek, where a bruise was most definitely starting to form. "And don't be stupid! I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harriet seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue.

She sat down at the table and tried not to think about how she was going to look on her first day at Stonewall High — like she was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harriet's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. The stick was given to all of the boys at the school, and was supposed to be good training for later in life.

They heard some footsteps, followed by the annoying ring of the doorbell.

"Get the door, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harriet get it."

"Get the door, Harriet."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke her with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harriet easily dodged the Smelting stick and went to answer the door. Opening it, she found herself face-to-face with four of the most interesting looking people she had ever seen.

The tallest of the lot was a man with jet black hair (like hers), which stuck out in a million different directions, and hazel eyes. To the right of him, stood another man He had light brown hair, which was thinning slightly and warm, golden-brown eyes. To the right of this man, was the most eccentric man of all. His hair was long and black, pulled into a low ponytail and his eyes were grey. He wore the interesting look of a sick person who had just gotten healthy and was getting used to being normal again. The only woman of the group stood to the left of the first man. Her hair was red and straight and her eyes were a stunning, emerald green (just like Harriet's!).

Seeing Harriet, the woman started to smile. Lily couldn't help it. She was seeing her daughter for the first time in ten years. She was so grown up... James, Sirius, and Remus all seemed to be sharing similar sentiments, as they were smiling at her, too.

Although no introductions had been made, there was no doubt in their minds that this was Harriet. The messy black hair...bright green eyes...the lightning shaped scar, which Dumbledore had warned them about. The only quality that might cause them to doubt her identity was her unbelievably small stature. Both James and Lily were fairly tall (although James didn't hit his growth-spurt until 5th year), but Lily hoped that she only looked small because of the overly large clothes she was wearing. The fact that the clothes were old and worn was not lost on Lily, nor did it escape the notice of the Marauders. Their keen eyes also noticed the prominent and rather ugly bruise on her cheek.

Definitely something to talk to the Dursleys about.

The discussion would have to be saved until later, however, because Harriet was looking quite uncomfortable with all the staring. In an attempt to diffuse the slight awkwardness she was feeling at having four complete strangers smiling at her, she managed a weak grin of her own.

"Hello..." She began, before pausing, uncertain. Rocking back and her forth on her heels, she looked down at the floor. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and asked, politely, like Aunt Petunia had taught her, "May I help you?"

"Actually, yes," said Remus. They had decided to have him do most of the talking at first. Lily and James probably wouldn't be able to say anything without crying hysterically and, as for Sirius, they were worried he might be a bit too... over-enthusiastic. "We have a few things to discuss with your Aunt and Uncle. Might we come in?"

Harriet's face scrunched in confusion. Uncle Vernon hadn't mentioned having any colleagues over. She would have known if he had, because Harriet would have been forced to clean the house from top to bottom, before being unceremoniously shoved into her cupboard. According to Uncle Vernon, this was to prevent his co-workers from noticing her "freakishness."

"Uncle Vernon didn't mention any of his co-workers coming to visit," Harriet stated, looking at the brown-haired man curiously, eyes innocent. Remus blinked in surprise, but quickly gathered himself. He had not prepared himself for how much Harriet's eyes would look like Lily's.

"We aren't from his work and he doesn't know we are coming." Harriet bit her lip and tried to think about why somebody would want to see her Uncle. Her eyes widened.

"You aren't here from the zoo, are you?" Not giving the man a chance to answer, she began to ramble worriedly, "I'm really sorry, sir! I have no idea what happened to the glass! One minute it was there and the next it was gone! The snake got out of the tank and- it didn't hurt anybody did he? He seemed really, nice, but, then again, I supposed it must be really hard to tell with a snake. Don't punish him too badly! He told me that he just wanted to go to Brazil, which makes sense since he's never seen his family...not to mention it has to be really boring lying there, day after day after day. I know I'd be bored and I imagine you-" She was cut off.

"Harriet," Sirus interrupted, laughing. "We aren't from the zoo. And you aren't in trouble." He turned to James and smirked. "Just like you, eh, Prongs?" James glared at his friend, but inwardly couldn't help but feel a bit proud: Not even in school and already causing trouble!

Harriet let out a sigh of relief, before tensing up again.

"How do you know my name?" she questioned, glaring defiantly at the group.

"It's sort of complicated, dear," the Lily said gently, speaking for the first time. It seemed that Dumbledore had been right and that the Dursleys hadn't told Harriet anything about the wizarding world. Of course, it was also possible that Harriet just didn't recognize them. "Why don't you let us in? That way we can explain."

Harriet looked at the people for a second, before nodding slowly and stepping aside, so they could enter the house. The way she saw it, if they had wanted to hurt her, they could've done so already. Closing the door, she turned around to face them.

They were looking around the hall, examining the pictures which adorned the walls. Sirius frowned. He couldn't see any pictures of Harriet, just of some blonde kid, whom he assumed to be Harriet's cousin, Dudley. James, Remus, and Lily didn't look to happy about the lack of photographs, either.

"So," Harriet asked, after giving them a minute, "How do you know my name?"

"Persistent isn't she?" muttered James to his wife. "She gets that from you." Harriet frowned at the lack of answer, but before she could question them on what that statement meant, her uncle called from the kitchen.

"Girl! What's taking you so long! I need my coffee!"

"There are some people here to see you, Uncle Vernon." She answered, eyes never wavering from the group in the hall. Lily raised her eyebrows at the tone of the voice. T _hat must be Petunia's husband,_ she mused.

"If they are salesmen, tell them that I am not interested! And get in here! Dudders wants more bacon!"

James scowled. _My daughter is not a house-elf!_

"Uhh..." Harriet hesitated. Were they salespeople? The golden-eyed man shook his head at her, allowing Harriet to respond to her Uncle. "They say they aren't salespeople." Harriet didn't bother answering her Uncle about Dudley's bacon.

Remus heard an annoyed grunt, followed by the sound of a weighted down chair scraping the floor. A few seconds later, the hulking form of an angry Vernon Dursley filled the doorway, his massive body blocking out any light that might be radiating from the kitchen.

"Idiot girl," he growled, advancing on her, first raised and his bushy mustache rippling on his great, purple, face, "Can't you do anything right? Don't you know better than to yell at me from across the house?"

Before Harriet could come up with an adequate response to get herself out of trouble, although she doubted it would work, the red-haired woman spoke.

"Hello, Vernon," her voice might have sounded polite, but to those who knew her, especially as well as James did, a hidden malice could be heard. It was also impossible to overlook the angry glint in her usually gentle green eyes. Vernon turned towards the voice, paying attention to the guests for the first time. Harriet watched in a sort-of horrified fascination as her Uncle's face turned red, then white, followed by green, before settling on a grey-white color similar to that of the old porridge Aunt Petunia sometimes gave her (if she was lucky).

His eyes seemed in danger of popping out of their sockets and his mouth was open so wide that Harriet was expecting to see a toll-booth in there somewhere. Indeed, choking on a toll-booth might account for why he couldn't speak, for all he could managed were these small wheezing sounds which seemed to Harriet incredibly similar to a dying fish.

She cocked her head to the side, taking in Uncle Vernon.

 _Or maybe a dying buffalo._  She mused. And as her Uncle let out a particular large groan-type sound, Harriet nodded.  _Definitely a buffalo._

 _"Pe-Pe-PETUNIA!"_  He bellowed loudly. So loudly, in fact, that Harriet, who was accustomed to her Uncle's loud yells, as they were usually directed at her, jumped. She listened intently to the sound of her Aunt's little kitten heels on the hardwood floor. Why her Aunt insisted on her hair being fully-coifed, her face completely done up in makeup, and wearing perfectly tailored outfits to the breakfast table was beyond Harriet, who preferred to dress hurriedly at the last minute and gain a few more precious minutes of sleep.

Her Aunt's rake thin body appeared in the doorway, briefly pausing to say something to Dudley, before continuing to the hall where Vernon was waiting. She glared at him pointedly, as she waited for him to explain why she had called him away from her "Precious Popkin." When she realized that he wasn't going to answer, she followed his gaze to the group in the hall. At the sight of the adults, her back went rigid, and she began chewing manically on her lip, as if she had been starved for days and it was the only food she had.

"Hello, Petunia," said Lily sardonically, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Her sister, she noted, hadn't changed in the 10 years she had been...asleep: same pinched-face, stick-like body, the same care for her outward appearance and, if the state of her house was any indication, the same obsession with order and cleanliness she had possessed even as a child.

"Li-Lily," Aunt Petunia stuttered, seeming at a loss for words. This seemed very odd to Harriet because Aunt Petunia, who was very worried about the opinion of others, often practiced speaking to guests in front of a mirror, in order to not embarrass herself.

The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow.

"Eleven years and that is all you have to see to me?"

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Aunt Petunia whimpered. This was not what Lily, who always wished that things with her sister had turned out differently, was wanting to hear. James, seeing the slight hurt in his wife's eyes, took over, answering firmly:

"We are here to pick up our daughter."

Harriet's eyes widened in surprise as Petunia let out a gasp. Harriet didn't understand who these people were talking about. She was the only girl in the house (minus Petunia, but she was obviously much to old to be this man's daughter) and her parents had died in a car crash when she was a baby. Vernon, unlike Petunia and Harriet, seemed glad at this news.

"You are? Good. Take her with you and don't come back. We've been saddled with the little freak for nine years and its time somebody took responsibility for her!"

Something unidentifiable to Harriet cackled in the air, as the mystery people tensed and glared at Vernon. Harriet was more confused than ever. Her uncle and Aunt had always made known their opinions of her and what a freak she was. Was it her they were talking about? Her curiosity overwhelmed her and she turned to the grey-eyed man and blurted:

"Are you here to see me?" He looked shocked at being addressed and Harriet, realizing her place, quickly backtracked.

"I'm sorry! I-I-I know I'm not supposed to ask questions! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" The man didn't seem to care about whether or not she had broken one of Petunia's most important rules. He seemed more focused on something else.

"Harriet," he spoke quietly, his voice soothing and oddly familiar, kneeling down to look her in the eye "Do you mean that you have absolutely no idea what is going on?" At this point, all attention was on them, the Dursleys' previous comments forgotten.

Harriet shook her head "no" and the man straightened back up. He exchanged a look with the other adults. The man with the glasses sighed and said:

"Well, then, I guess we need to have a long chat, don't we?" He smiled at her, and when Harriet made no objection, he turned to the Dursleys, who were cowering against the wall. "You don't mind if we use your living room, do you? Excellent!" He cried, not waiting for an answer. The four adults traipsed into the living room and Harriet followed, albeit a bit more hesitant.

Inside the living room, Dudley sat on one of the couches, apparently having grown bored with waiting for Harriet to serve him more bacon, watching The Great Humberto on the television. His five chins wobbled disgustingly as he munched on a bar of chocolate he had taken from the pantry. As the people entered the room, he turned his watery-eyes to them and asked, bluntly:

"Who are you?"

"None of your business," responded Sirius, in a mocking tone. He made a "shooing" motion with his hands, and snapped "Now get off the couch."

The pig-boy (as he was now labeled in Sirius's mind) stared dumbly him for a moment, then turned to his parents, who stood hunched and simpering by the door. They nodded and beckoned him over. He waddled to them and Petunia wrapped her bony arms around his shoulders...well, she tried to.

Sirius grinned, satisfied, and plopped down on the couch, making sure to upset as many pillows as possible. He stuck his feet on the coffee table and laid out languorously, stretching his arms to reach out behind him, before finally reaching back with them to support his head.

"I have to say, Petunia," he commented offhandedly, as Remus settled down next to him and James and Lily sat down on the couch opposite them, "This is much nicer than prison."

Petunia pushed herself further into the wall, as if hoping it would swallow her whole. Sirius grinned wider and caught his god-daughter's eye to wink at her. He was rewarded with her smile and a small giggle. At the sound, Remus turned to face her with calm eyes and beckoned her over to the couches.

"Come sit down, Harriet," he said, "We have much to discuss." At this point, Harriet gave him a look remarkably similar to the one James gave him when he suggested they abandon pranking for awhile in favor of studying. The look clearly stated, "Are you insane? That has to be the craziest thing I have ever heard!" Harriet's eyes flicked to her Aunt and Uncle and she bit her lip, shyly.

"I'm not allowed to sit on the couch," she told the floor, quietly.

"Well, you are now," Lily told her, trying to keep the venom out of her voice. She patted the spot on the couch in between her and James, prompting Harriet to walk over, cautiously, eyes trained on her Aunt and Uncle. When they made no protests, she sat tensely down on the edge of the couch, on the outside, next to James, obviously ready to jump off at a moments notice. James decided that this was as good as it was going to get.

"Harriet," he began carefully, watching his daughter as she kept her eyes fixed on her worn-out trainers, "What do you know about wizardry?"

Harriet's head snapped up and his daughter's beautiful emerald eyes met James' hazel ones. She seemed surprised by the question, and James couldn't blame her. If four unknown people had shown up on his doorstep, asking questions about magic, when he obviously didn't know about it, he would have been surprised, too.

"Wizardry? Like magic?" James shook his head in encouragement, so she said "Its not real."

"Not real?" echoed Sirius. "What idiot told you that?" Harriet's eyes darted to her aunt and uncle and Sirius needed no more elaboration. Lily passed a hand over her face and then faced her daughter.

"Harriet," she said quietly, although her voice rang surprisingly loud through the room, "Magic is very real."

Harriet blinked, "It is?"

The golden-eyed man chose this moment to pull out a thin, black stick. Harriet watched, confused, as he took it and gently tapped the cup of chocolate milk that had been left by Dudley on the table. To Harriet's amazement, the glass grew legs and began to dance. Harriet looked up from where the glass was currently doing a tango at the adults surrounding the table.

"How did you-" she stuttered, while the brown-haired man tapped the cup again and made it stop dancing.

"Magic is very real, love" The woman repeated, "and the truth of the matter is-" She was interrupted by the man with the long, black, hair.

"You're a wizard, Harriet." He said bluntly.

"Sirus!" Scolded the gold-eyed man.

"What, Remus?" The man named Sirus defended, "Its true and she needed to know!"

"Yes!" Retorted Remus, "But you could have been gentler!"

"How so?"

"Well, I don't know, but-"

"Stop you two!" Snapped the woman, glaring at them until they fell silent, then looking at Harriet who was gaping openly at the two of them.

"I'm-I'm a wh-what?" She stuttered, openly gaping at the man.

"A wizard," stating the man sitting next to her, glasses twinkling in the light, "Well, technically a witch, but the sentiment is the same. You were accepted into Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The headmaster gave us your letter a bit early. " He took a heavy envelope out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Taking it from him, she looked at the words written on the front in shiny-green ink:

_Harriet Lily Potter_

_The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Flipping it over, she broke the seal, opening it, and pulled out several different pieces of parchment. The first read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Harriet's mind whizzing and whirling in too many different directions to think straight, and she reread the letter several times. Sirius, Remus, and the other two yet-to-be-named adults were patient, giving her as much time as she needed, which was something Harriet wasn't used to, as the Dursleys hated to be kept waiting. After a few minutes, she asked the first question that popped into her head.

"What do they mean by "We await your owl?" Remus looked slightly surprised at the question, but he answered nonetheless.

"That is how we-wizards and witches-communicate."

"Oh." She was quiet, struggling to put into words what she was feeling and thinking. Shaking her head, she pressed the letter back into the hands of the black-haired man and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but there must be some sort of mistake. I'm not a wizard...I'm Harriet...Just Harriet."

"Technically, you'd be a witch, not a wizard," Sirius commented offhandedly. Seeing her doubtful expression, he sat up straighter, resting his elbows on his knees, and leaned toward her. Looking her in the eye with an earnest smile, revealing his yellow teeth, on his face he asked, "Well, 'Just Harriet,' have you ever done things you couldn't explain? Made things happen? Maybe when you were scared or angry?" Harriet's eyes widened and the man took that as a yes, sitting back with a self satisfied grin on his face that clearly said 'there ya' go.'

Dudley chose this moment to give off a particularly loud whimper. Harriet whirled around on the couch to face the Dursleys and blurted, without thinking,

"Did you know?" Harriet had lived for a very long time in the Dursley household, long enough to be used to them keeping information from her, but to keep from her the fact that she was witch...

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly, almost choking on the words "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my sister being what she was?"

"My parents were wizards, too?" She gaped, looking at the Dursleys in astonishment. When they didn't answer, merely shoved themselves further into the corner of the room, she turned to face the four strangers on the couch, currently glaring at the Dursleys again. "Were they?"

The man with the glasses grinned at her, an easy-going, confident grin that contrasted greatly with the steely glare he had worn only moments ago.

"Yes, they were." His grin morphed into a smirk, "As a matter of fact, they were an unbelievably talented pair...not to mention smart, good-looking," He began ticking off qualities on his fingers, "popular, brave..." The two other men were laughing loudly at this, apparently in on some inside joke that Harriet did not know about.

The red-haired woman looked exasperated and embarrassed and highly flattered, all at the same time. She gave the man, who was still listing qualities, a hard smack on the arm and rolled her eyes.

"I think she gets it, James." the red-haired woman turned to Harriet, her expression now more serious. "Besides what he," she gestured to the man she had called 'James,' "Just told you, what else do you know about your parents?"

"My parents?" When the Lily nodded, Harriet continued, "My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby."

The silence that followed this statement was deafening. James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius gave the Dursleys glares so cold that if looks could kill, they would have died several times over. Remus schooled his features into a calm mask and turned to Harriet.

"Is there anything else you know about them?"

"I...I overheard Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon talking one time..." She began, looking at Remus worriedly. When he nodded to show her that she wasn't in any trouble, she added, "They said that my dad was a- that he was a-a-a rotten drunk," she stuttered. "and that was why the car crashed."

"How _dare_  you," seethed Sirius, hopping off of the couch and lunging at the Dursleys, just managing to be held back by Remus, the anger rolling off of him in waves, "You filthy muggles have let your prejudice blind you so much that you would go so far to hide from Harriet the truth of her parents?"

"Sirius," Lily warned, as Harriet's head reeled: The truth about my parents? What truth?

"No, Lily," snapped Sirius, "I have seen enough to know that these idiots," he spat the word as if longing to call them something more, "have been swallowed by their own fear and stupidity and have  _hated Harriet_ -"

"Sirius," snapped Remus, as he watched Harriet pale considerably. She looked tense and was watching Sirius with wary eyes. Sirius turned to her and was wracked with guilt when he saw her fear.

"I-I'm sorry, Prongslette," he whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you..."

Harriet brushed aside the nickname for a minute, and focused on the other things he said. He seemed sincere, as did everybody else, and he was looking at her as if her reassurance that she believed him was the most important thing in the world. She managed a small smile and said,

"It's okay," he sagged against the couch in relief and she decided to continue, stating boldly, "But what truth about my parents?" The adults exchanged glances, seemingly unsure of where to begin.

While they pondered, Harriet took the time to examine each of them. They had given her enough information, at this point, for her to be able to assign a name to each of them. The red-haired woman was Lily. The messy haired man next to her had been called "James." The kind brown-haired man was Remus and the sick looking one was Sirius.

Finally, Remus took a deep breath and began speaking.

"Well, you see, Harriet," Remus said, "Your parents...never really died."

Harriet couldn't come up with an adequate response to this statement, so she just waited for Remus to continue.

"The thing is, Harriet, this all goes back to you being a witch." When Harriet nodded her acknowledgement of the fact, Remus followed up with the statement. "Its important Harriet, that you realize that, just as there are good and bad muggles-"

"Muggles?" She said, raising an eyebrow at the funny sounding word.

"Non-magic folk," He explained, face hardening, "Its rather unfortunate that you've grown up with the biggest bunch of muggles I have ever seen, but that was sadly outside of my control." He gave Harriet a small smile, which she returned.

"Now, as I was saying, just as there are good and bad muggles, there are good and bad wizards or witches. Not too long before you were born, there was a war, against a wizard, who had gone as bad as a wizard could go...and his name, was..." He hesitated here, before plowing on, "Voldemort. However, he was so greatly feared that many people-even now, after he is gone-only call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "

"If he was so powerful," interrupted Harriet, nose scrunched in confusion, "How is it that he is gone?"

"I was just getting to that..." Remus said in mock annoyance, causing her to grin sheepishly at him, "Well, a few months before your second birthday, Voldemort was at the height of his power. There were very few safe places left in the wizarding world, one of them being Hogwarts, as Dumbledore, the headmaster, was one of the few people Voldemort was ever afraid of...but more on that later."

Remus paused, unsure of how to explain to Harriet why her parents had gone into hiding without explicitly lying to her about why they had to hide in the first place. Sirius, sensing Remus's hesitance, picked up the story,

"Harriet," He began, causing Harriet to whip her head over to face the man, whom she had figured to be Sirius, as he spoke "Your father and mother were two of the most talented wizards of their time: James, your father, was an unbelievable auror - thats a dark wizard catcher...similar to your muggle policemen, I believe," Sirius added, remembering from his few years of muggle-studies back at Hogwarts, seeing Harriet's confused face.

Harriet, however, wasn't confused over the definition of an auror (although, she had been wondering about that, too). She was recalling when, several minutes earlier, Lily had called the man-with-the-glasses, who was sitting next to her, James, and how the same James had said that he was here to pick up his daughter...She shook her head-she was getting ahead of herself-and focused instead on what Sirius was saying.

"You're mum, on the other hand, worked at St. Mungo's as a healer...err, doctor?" He questioned, looking at Lily to see if he had gotten the comparison right. When she had nodded, he said to Harriet, "The point is that they were both very powerful, which was why Voldemort wanted them on his side."

This, Remus mused, was not a complete lie. Voldemort probably would have loved having Lily and James on his side.

"Your parents, realizing that they were large targets and wanting to keep you safe, went into hiding." Sirius paused, glancing over the at man and woman on the couch next to her. They seemed to exchange some sort of silent message, because both James and Lily shook their heads at Sirius. Harriet didn't have much time to figure out what they were talking about, however, because Sirius continued with his narration.

"They used whats called the Fidelius Charm," Sirius told Harriet, before explaining, "Where only one witch or wizard, called the Secret-Keeper, is able to disclose the location they are trying to protect." Here, Sirius paused again, more briefly, before continuing, "It is a bit more complicated than that, but you get the idea, don't you, Prongslette?"

Harriet blinked owlishly. First at being called "Prongslette" again. Then, because she was trying to digest the information: Her parents were wizards. They were not drunks. They were fighting in some type of war against an evil wizard. They wanted to keep her safe.

Once the information was processed, Harriet nodded slowly, careful not to agitate her now throbbing head.

"Well, one night, your parents were persuaded to go out and get some dinner. Your grandparents-on your mother's side- came to babysit you. As bad-luck would have it, this was the night Voldemort chose to attack-"

"But how did he knew where we were," Harriet interrupted, "You said that my parents had that Fideli- Fedil-"

"Fidelius Charm," coaxed Sirius, before continuing with a small, sad, smile. "The Fidelius Charm is good protection, indeed. However, it is only as strong as its Secret-Keeper. Your parents...and your parents' friends, I suppose, made the mistake of trusting the wrong person."

"Their friend betrayed them?" Harriet asked, wide eyed. Harriet had never had any real friends (save for Isaura) -How could she with Dudley threatening to beat-up anybody who talked to her?-and, to her, having a real friend would be one of the most amazing things in the world. The idea that somebody would give up having a real friend for the sake of power was one that the (somewhat naive) ten-year old could not understand.

"Yes,' said Sirius, pale features darkening considerably, "He did. He gave Voldemort the location of your house and, as it happened, the night he showed up was the night your parents were out. Your grandparents...your grandparents tried to fight back, to protect you, but they were muggles facing one of the most powerful wizards in history." Sirius choked up here, but quickly went on. "He killed them, that night. But the real mystery is that when he tried to kill you, he couldn't. That scar on your forehead?" Harriet reached up to touch the scar in question, before Sirius continued.

"It isn't from a  _car crash_ ," he spat these last words. "A scar like that comes only when a very powerful, very evil, curse touches you. For whatever reason, Harriet, Voldemort couldn't kill you that night. Thats why your famous, Prongslette. You're the Girl-Who-Lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harriet's mind. As Sirius's story came to a close,she saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than she had ever remembered it before — and she remembered something else, for the first time in her life: a high, cold, cruel laugh. She tried to swallow through her dry throat.

"I-I'm famous?"

"Very," remarked Lily, dryly. "You'll see when you get to Hogwarts."

"Whatever happened to Volde-sorry, You-Know-Who?" questioned Harriet, still trying to piece the story together in her mind.

"Voldemort, Harriet." James gently chided. "Never be afraid to call him by his proper name. And nobody really knows. Some say that he died that night. Others aren't so sure. Some think that he didn't have enough human left in him to die, and that he is out there, waiting, biding his time."

Harriet let out a huge breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. She reached up again and fingered her scar, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that it was given to her by a dark wizard intent on killing her, not in the car crash that killed-

"My parents!" Harriet blurted, remembering why Remus had begun telling the story in the first place. "What does this have to do with them?"

"Well," Remus began taking up the narration once again, "Your parents, as Sirius said, were out when Voldemort attacked. But, they happened to be on their way home when Voldemort attacked. They got home just as Voldemort cast the curse to try and-kill you,." Remus said these last few words hesitatingly, as if the thought of somebody trying to kill Harriet was a painful thought, a concept that was new and amazing to Harriet herself.

"The curse hit them," Remus said slowly, trying to find the best way to explain the (often complicated) mechanics of curses to a ten year-old witch with no prior magical knowledge, "But not directly. They've spent the last ten years at St. Mungo's-the wizarding hospital- in coma like state."

"They spent?" prodded Harriet, hungry for any information about her parents, "So they aren't there anymore?"

Remus shook his head, furthering Harriet to ask another question.

"Well, then where are they now?"

Remus didn't give a verbal answer, instead choosing to look up at the man and woman sitting next to Harriet, whom Harriet had come to know as Lily and James. Harriet turned around the couch to look at them better. They were gazing at her with an indescribable look, which the Dursleys had never given her in the entirety of her stay with them. Harriet's throat suddenly felt even drier than before, as she finally understood what was happening.

"Mum?" She croaked, "Dad?"

The woman let out a choked sound, half laugh, half sob, before launching herself at her daughter. Suddenly, Harriet found herself being wrapped in the embrace of both her parents, something she never thought would have happened. The wetness of her mum's tears, combined with the roughness of her father's clothing, gave it a hot, sticky, sensation, and they were both squeezing her so tight that she couldn't breathe.

But Harriet had never felt more loved in her entire life.

"We are so sorry," her mum whispered, over and over. "We are so sorry." Harriet shook her head, burying further into their clothes, taking a deep breathe to try and keep herself from crying.

" I's not your fault," she muttered. She felt one of them (she couldn't tell who from her position) place a kiss on the top of her head, the first time anybody had ever done that, as far as she could remember.

Naturally, Vernon Dursley had to ruin it.

"Enough," he huffed and, when nobody seemed to hear him, he moved further into the center of the room and yelled, "Enough! I said 'Enough!"

Both of her parents let her out of their embrace, although they each kept an arm around her, as they gave Vernon cool glares. Sirius and Remus seemed highly annoyed as well, the latter making sure to twirl his wand casually in his hand. It seemed Vernon was a man on a mission, though, and he showed no fear.

"I've been very generous in letting you have your," he gestured with his hand to indicate their position on the couch, "reunion-thing in my home. But now that you are done, I want you out of my house!"

Harriet got up from her position on the couch, ignoring her parents' (her parents!) protests, to stand in front of her Uncle. She looked up at his mean, red, face. For nine years she had been forced to do what he said, because he said she should be thankful for him and Aunt Petunia taking her in and feeding her and giving her clothing. And she had been, in a way that only a ten year-old brainwashed by her horrid relatives could be.

But they had lied to her.

That anger and hurt, combined with the rather odd empowerment that comes from knowing that your parents are alive (and wizards), caused her to state very quietly, not betraying any of the pain she was feeling,

"You lied to me." Uncle Vernon sputtered, not used to Harriet standing up for herself, before regaining his ground.

"So what?" He choked out.

"'So what?'" asked Harriet, voice growing louder. "'So what?'  _You told me my parents died, when they didn't_! How could you do that to me?  _We're family_!"

"Family!" Scoffed Uncle Vernon, paling as Remus and Sirius and Harriet's parents stood up from their positions on the couches and Harriet felt somebody put a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw her father (her living dad!) glaring, quite harshly, at Vernon, but nevertheless he kept speaking.

"Just because we may be related by blood to us doesn't mean we owe anything to fre- people like y _ou_." Harriet scowled, white-knuckled hands tightly gripping the fabric of her jeans, feeling something inexplicable move within her. Aunt Petunia, fearing the four fully grown wizards in the room, tried to pull her husband back, but Vernon Dursley was determined. "For ten years, we kept you in this house and fed you and clothed you and gave you a roof over your head! You should'a been bloody grateful, but how do you repay us? With  _blue-hair_  and  _shrinking-sweaters_  and  _rogue snakes_! How dare-"

Here, Uncle Vernon seemed to swell with anger so great that he seemed unable to speak. But the swelling didn't stop. His great red face started to expand, his tiny eyes bulged, and his mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from his blue robe and pinged off the walls — he was inflating like a monstrous balloon, his stomach bursting free of his plaid waistband, each of his fingers blowing up like a salami…

"Vernon!" screeched Aunt Petunia, at the same time as Dudley's scared "Daddy," rang through the room, and Uncle Vernon's whole body began to rise off the ground toward the ceiling.

He was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and his hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises as he floated into the kitchen.

"NOOOOOOO!" Aunt Petunia screeched, following him and then disappearing from sight.

The wizards heard, rather than saw, Aunt Petunia seize one of Vernon's feet and try to pull him down again, but from the sounds of her cries, her rake-thin body was no match for Vernon's weight and she too was lifted up into the air and, as her screams grew further and further away, out the back door.

"Get out here!" Her distant voice could be heard calling. "Get out here and put him right!" The adults, at least the males, were too busy laughing to pay any mind to her though and Harriet's mother, while not doubled over in fits of laughter, also looked highly amused.

The rest of the Aunt Petunia's screeches, though, were lost to the wind as both she and her husband floated too far away for the others to hear.

 _It's a wonder the neighbors didn't see,_  marveled Harriet, turning to face her mother and father.

"Good job, Prongs," said Sirius through his laughter, "I've been wanting to do that all morning!"

"It wasn't me Padfoot," said her father, having controlled himself a bit.

"It wasn't?" questioned Sirius, confused. He turned to Lily, "Lil's? Moony?" Then turning to Remus when Harriet's mother answered in the negative. When Remus also shook his head, Harriet's father chuckled and turned to Harriet, raising an eyebrow and telling her, in a joking manner,

"You have some explaining to do, young lady." The other adults grinned at her as well, but Harriet was highly troubled.

" _I_  did that?" She asked wide eyed, only to whip her head around at the sound of running footsteps, just in time to see Dudley waddle quickly up the stairs. This was followed by the slam of the bedroom door. She turned back to the adults.

"Yup," said her father, laughing once again, only to stop at the look on Harriet's face. "Whats the matter, Prongslette?"

"Am I...am I in trouble?"

"Trouble," echoed her father, "Why would you be in trouble?"

"I did something bad," Harriet said guiltily, looking at the floor, "I was a freak."

"A freak-," Her mother paused and took a deep breath. "Who called you that, love?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon." Harriet paused for a second, adding "And Dudley, but he only does that 'cause they tell him to."

"Harriet," said Sirius softly, once again kneeling down to look her in the eye. "You are not a freak. You are a normal, wizarding child."

"I am?" Hope colored her voice, as she hardly dared believe what Sirius and her parents were trying to tell her.

"You are." Harriet considered the point.

"Do normal wizarding children blow up their uncles?"

Sirius let out a laugh, before grinning softly at her and ruffling her already messy hair.

"Not exactly, but they do do accidental magic. Do you know what that is?" Harriet shook her head 'no.'

"When an untrained wizard-like you- feels particularly strong emotions, sometimes their magic gets away from them. Its entirely common and usually celebrated by wizarding families. But don't worry," he added, "it should stop once you get to Hogwarts."

"Oh. Ok." Harriet looked at the man kneeling next to her and was suddenly hit with a realization.

"Not to seem rude, sir," she began, and when he nodded to encourage her, she asked "but who are you?" She had figured out his name from what had been said between him and the other adults, but she honestly had no idea  _why_  he was here with her parents.

"Who am-" He let a new bark of laughter and gave her a wide grin. "I'm Sirius Black, sometimes called Padfoot by my friends. I'm also," and here, he lowered his voice conspiratorially, as if he was sharing some big secret, "you're godfather."

"Really?"

"Really!" he beamed, jumping up from his position. He reached towards Remus and pushed him towards her. "And this," he gestured to the brown-haired man, "is your honorary Uncle Moony, or Remus Lupin, as some call him."

Harriet stared up at him for a minute, before finally saying the first thing she could think of.

"Hi." He gave her a small smile in response, answering her.

"Hello, Harriet."

"Oh my," exclaimed Harriet's mom, looking at her watch. "We have to get going! Dumbledore is waiting for us!"

"But wait," Harriet exclaimed, as she was ushered out of the living room, "Whats going to happen to Uncle Vernon?"

"You're honestly worried about him?" Questioned her father, eyebrows raised as if doubting her sanity. When she shrugged, he answered "Well, most likely they will send some Ministry workers to deflate him and erase the memories of any muggles who saw him."

"Erase their memories?" Harriet wondered aloud.

"Yes," said her father, hastening to add "Don't worry though, it won't hurt them at all."

"Now come, Harriet," her mother told her, "Let's grab your things and leave, hm? We have some people waiting for us. Where is your room?"

The four adult wizards held their breath here. This was one of the moments they had been waiting for. On Harriet's letter, it was written that she slept in the cupboard under the stairs, but all them couldn't help but hope that this was some sort of mistake or misunderstanding.

These hopes were dashed, however, when Harriet walked quietly to a small door and under the stairs, opened it, and crawled inside. James and Lily exchanged a quick glance before following her, both of them just managing to stick their heads inside.

It was small and cramped, that much was at first obvious, but the Dursleys had somehow managed to fit a thin, threadbare cot inside, but there were no pillows or blankets. Harriet was currently on the floor, attempting to reach somethings under the bed. Rather than feel any anger towards the Dursleys, all Lily could feel was a deep, painful, sadness, causing tears to come to her eyes.

"Harriet," she asked, "have you slept here your entire life?" Harriet came up from under the cot, answering as she moved.

"Yea," she turned to face her mother and, eyes narrowed, hesitatingly asked "Are you ok?" With some shock, Lily realized that she was crying, so she hastily wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Yes, love," She replied, forcing a smile, "I'm fine. Its just the dust, is all." Harriet looked doubtful, but nevertheless went back to gathering her things. James gave his wife's hand a light squeeze with his own, before slowly retreating outside the cupboard.

Turning to face his friends, their expressions were as serious as his own, and they looked at him expectantly.

"Well," demanded Sirius, as James composed himself.

"It was her bedroom," James whispered, not yet able to come to terms with it, "Apparently for her entire life."

"Those f-" Remus took his hand and quickly clapped it over Sirius's mouth, wanting to protect the innocent ears not too far from them. Sirius, taking advantage, then let loose a string of what Remus and James figure to be a mixture of expletives, threats to the Dursleys, and promises to go out and buy Harriet all of Diagon Alley.

"You can't buy Diagon Alley, Sirius," said Remus with mock impatience, once Sirius calmed down, although his own anger evident in his voice "Its not for sale." Sirius opened his mouth to retort, but was cut short by Lily and Harriet as they exited the cupboard, Harriet carrying a large bag.

"What have you got in there, Harriet?" Her father asked.

"Clothes," Harriet said, opening up the bag to reveal the faded clothing inside. Her father reached in, pulling out a grey-t-shirt. Harriet raised her eyebrows,  _I could have sworn that thing was white when Aunt Petunia bought it._

"Er," her dad hesitated, "a bit big for you, isn't it? Then again," he joked, "I'm not up to date with all the muggle fashions these days." Harriet let out a small laugh shaking her head.

"No, its big, but it used to be Dudley's. All of my clothes are hand-me-downs from him or Aunt Petunia."

Remus reached into the bag, this time pulling out a faded and dirty yellow-skirt.

"Sirius," He said, as he held the scrap of cloth away from his face, pinching it between two fingers, as one would something particularly disgusting.

"Yes, Remus?"

"What you said? About Diagon Alley?'

"Yea?"

"I'll help."

Sirius smirked, "Knew you would come around."

"Alright, alright," sighed Lily, "Enough joking around. We need to get going."

"You mean we're really leaving?" asked a wide-eyed Harriet. Both of her parents exchanged looks.

"Yes," affirmed Lily, "we are going to our new home. Remus has furnished it for us. We promise, you'll love it." Harriet couldn't really think of what to say. She had dreamed of leaving the Dursleys' for years, but she never thought that it would actually _happen._

 _"We are leaving the the Dursleys', pequenina?" I_ saura asked and Harriet visibly jumped. She had been so wrapped up in the idea of her parents being alive that she had forgotten about her friend! Her father, misinterpreting her action, looked at her worriedly.

"Is that okay?" he asked. Harriet was surprised at being asked her opinion, but nodded.

"Only if Isaura can come," she said, more bravely than she actually felt. What if they said no? Could she honestly abandon her new friend?

"Isaura?" asked Remus, confused. Harriet reached down and carefully pulled up her pant leg. She heard her mother let out a gasp, but ignored it, instead continuing to pick up the small reptile in her hands. Isaura slowly unwound herself from Harriet's leg, twisting herself on Harriet's slender wrist, instead.

"This is Isaura," Harriet paused hesitantly at her parent's (and Remus's and Sirius's) faces, but continued, "I got her at the zoo. I didn't take her on purpose," Harriet defended herself, "but she said she wanted to come with me and wouldn't let go of my ankle!"

"You said that she "said" that she wanted to come with you," said Sirius slowly, to which Harriet nodded. "So you can talk to snakes?"

"Yea," said Harriet. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Does that have anything to do with my being a witch?"

"Yes, love," her mum told her, sounding wary, "but I wouldn't go telling too many people about it."

"Why not?" Harriet couldn't help but grow a bit frantic. "Is it bad?"

"No," James told her quickly, swallowing down his fear of his daughter being a parselmouth, for Harriet's sake. There had never been a parselmouth in his family as far as he knew, so he couldn't help but wonder where Harriet got it from. "Being a Parselmouth," ( _So thats what its called,_  noted Harriet) "is a special skill and one that you should be proud of for having." Harriet nodded, relieved, and gently stroked Isaura's head.

"Come on," said Lily, after a moment's silence. "We best be going."

Harriet was lead out of the house, walking through the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive for, hopefully, the last time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who's been checking out my story and leaving kudos and bookmarking it :)


	4. Old Friends and New Homes

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".  
~Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Wisteria Walk, Little Whinging, Surrey- June 30, 1991**

Harriet blinked at the bright sunlight as she emerged from the house. It had been awhile since she had been outside the house-unless, of course, you counted earlier this morning when she had gone to take out the trash, before the sun had fully risen.

"Come on, Harriet," said her father, holding his hand out to her. She took it and he lead her forward down the driveway.

"Where are we going," she questioned, looking up at her father and mother, who was standing on her other side.

"We are going to see an old friend of ours, Prongslette," said James, grinning, "I think you might know her. Then, we are going to Hogwarts."

"The place in my letter," Harriet prodded. Her mother nodded at her, before looking at Sirius and Remus, both of whom were currently bickering with each other and walking just a bit ahead of them.

"You can't call her 'Figgy' anymore, Sirius," snapped an exasperated Remus.

"Why not?" demanded Sirius, "I did when I was younger...it was cute!"

"It might have been considered 'cute'-to use your words- when you were younger," retorted Remus, "But not its just plain rude! You're a fully grown man!"

"That is debatable," said James loudly, butting in on the discussion.

"No, it isn't!" cried Sirius. James, seeing his friend's distraught expression, turned to wink at his now giggling daughter.

Harriet was so busy laughing at her father and godfather that she failed to notice that they had now arrived at their destination. The door in front of them swung open, startling Harriet out of her reverie and revealing-

"Mrs. Figg," she cried astonished. The old woman smiled at her, although looking supremely agitated, fixing the cap on her hair as she did so. Isaura, already smelling all the cats which were on the other side of the door, quickly hid herself in the sleeve of Harriet's oversized grey sweatshirt.

"Hello, dearie," said Mrs. Figg, before turning to her parents. "It took you long enough," she snapped, now fussing with her shawl. "Come in! Quickly, now. Before the neighbors see!"

The group entered the house, Mrs. Figg closing the door behind them. Harriet took in the familiar living room: tan walls, musty smell, old couches that were surprisingly soft...and the cats, of course.

"Mrs. Figg," asked Harriet cautiously, once the elder woman seemed to have settled down a bit, "Are you a witch, too?" That seemed to be the only explanation that made sense, especially since her parents had referred to her as an "old friend."

"A witch!" laughed Mrs. Figg, "Good heavens, no! I'm a squib."

"A what?"  _Wizards have some funny sounding words_ , Harriet thought to herself.

"A squib, Harriet," said Remus, choosing to answer, "is a person who was born from a magical family, but possesses no powers of their own."

"Oh," said Harriet. After thinking for a moment, Harriet asked, "Is that why you always asked to babysit me for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?"

"Sharp as a tack, that one," said Mrs. Figg to Harriet's parents, who beamed proudly at her. Turning back to Harriet, she said "Yes, dear. Dumbledore assigned me here so I could watch over you."

"Dumbledore?" frowned Harriet, trying to remember where she had heard the name before.

"He's the headmaster of Hogwarts, love," said Lily, gently. "and an old friend of ours."

"Exactly," nodded Mrs. Figg, "However, he bade me only observe, never interfere. Unless, of course, the Dursleys' ill treatment of you grew...excessive."

"I think," said Lily, barely keeping her temper in check, "that we might have passed the point of "excessive" when Harriet was forced to live in a cupboard under the stairs."

Mrs. Figg looked winded.

"Lily! James!" she gasped, slowly setting herself down on the couch, hand to her heart. "I assure you that I had no idea!"

"We know," assured James, although he did not sound as happy about the idea of Harriet living in a cupboard any more than his wife did. "and we don't blame you. We know that you would have notified Dumbledore had you any idea of what was going on in that house."

Harriet frowned, confused at to what she was overhearing. What was wrong with her cupboard? Besides the fact that it did grow a bit small at times, she liked it, as it provided her a safe haven where the Dursleys were not able to bother her.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Figg," offered Lily, knowing that it must not have been easy for her to stand by and watch, but to do nothing. "Its been a difficult few hours. Do you think we could get on our way to Hogwarts?"

"Of course, Lily," said Mrs. Figg, "The Floo Powder is on the mantle. But before you go!" Mrs. Figg rushed quickly out of the room (almost tripping on her calico, Miss Pickles) and Harriet heard her rummaging around in the closet down the hall. She came back a minute later, holding out a leather-bound book to Harriet's father. He took it from her, confused.

"Its a photo-album," she explained as he opened it, revealing the several different pictures on the first page. "I always knew that when you woke up, you would want to see what you missed, so I made sure to take plenty of pictures of Harriet growing up!"

Harriet's father closed the book. "Thank you," he told Mrs. Figg, before reaching over and giving her a hug. She seemed surprised, but did her best to cover it, patting him awkwardly on the back and then pushing him lightly away.

"Well, then," she sniffed, clearing her throat, "you best be going now, or Dumbledore will have my head!"

Shooting the older woman a smile Harriet's mum walked over to the fireplace and took a small bag from the mantle. Reaching inside, she was able to pull out a handful of fine, powder. Harriet was curious, but decided that it wasn't worth the risk of getting her mother angry by asking her a questions. In the course of the morning, Harriet had already asked her mother more questions than she ever had in her entire life with the Dursleys. Harriet saw no absolutely need to push her luck.

Her mum, however, seemed to know what she was thinking and turned to her.

"Now," she said, smiling, "it is safe to assume that you have never traveled by Floo before, have you, Harriet?" Harriet shook her head 'no.'

"Well, wizards and witches travel using the Floo Network. The Floo network connects most wizarding homes and buildings and can be accessed by using a fireplace." Here, Harriet looked doubtful, so her mother elaborate further. "You take some Floo Powder," she gestured to the glittery powder in her hand, "And throw it into the fireplace. The fire will begin to burn bright green, meaning that you will be able to enter the fireplace without being burned. Then, all you have to do is clearly state your destination."

"Simple, really," laughed Sirius. Seeing his goddaughters hesitant expression, Sirius said "Maybe I should demonstrate, Lils. Just to calm her down?"

"Sure," said Lily, handing a handful of the powder to her friend. Sirius took it and threw it into the fireplace. At once, the flames burst into a brilliant shade of green, causing Harriet to jump backwards in shock.

"Easy there," said her father, placing a steadying hand around her waist. Harriet thought nothing else could have surprised her that day, but was proven wrong when Sirius walked into the flames, as easily as if that sort of thing happened everyday.

"Bye, Figgy!" He proclaimed, with a large wave to the now fuming woman.

"Don't call me that, Sirius Black!" she shrieked, but it was doubtful that he even heard her because, with a cheerful "Dumbledore's Office" and a rush of bright green light, he had disappeared.

Harriet was left speechless.

"Harriet," said her mother, "Why don't you Floo with me, the first time? Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

Hesitantly, Harriet nodded, walking towards her mother. Her mum took a handful of Floo Powder, before handing the rest to her husband. Saying goodbye to Mrs. Figg, she threw it into the fireplace and the pair walked into the flames. Harriet was surprised that the fire didn't feel warm at all. Instead, it provided a rather pleasant tickling sensation.

"Hold on tight," warned her mother, so Harriet around and tightly hugged her mother, practically pinning herself to her side. Her mother placed a hand on her back and said, firmly, "Dumbledore's Office!"

The green light was suddenly blinding. Harriet found herself spinning around and around and around, the only real thing in her mind was the hand her mother still had on her back. The air was whooshing around her and she was getting so dizzy-

It stopped.

* * *

**Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts-June 30, 1991**

Harriet tumbled out of the fireplace, the sudden stop having caused her mother to lose her grip, and straight into the firm body of somebody else, who reached out and steadied her.

"Woah, Prongslette," and Harriet was reassured with the sound of Sirius's voice, "You okay, there?"

Harriet nodded, looking over her shoulder just in time to see her father step through the fireplace. Sirius's voice, once again, made her look back at him.

"Takes a bit of getting used to, doesn't it?" Harriet nodded emphatically, making Sirius laugh again, and Isaura, on par with Harriet's feelings about the new mode of transportation, had Harriet's wrist currently in a death grip, just as Remus appeared through the Floo.

"So this," a soft voice came from the other side of the room, forcing Harriet to whip her head around and finally examine the odd room she was in, "is Harriet."

Harriet was left facing an old man of questionable age, but, despite that, his eyes twinkled and Harriet couldn't help but feel a great energy about him. This might have had something to do with his opulent dark blue robes, which seemed to have actual stars dancing across them. They would have seemed out of place anywhere else, but they fit in well with the richly adorned room Harriet was now in.

The man moved from behind his desk walking up to Harriet. Harriet gave him a small smile, unsure of what she should do. She needn't have worried, though, for the man did nothing but place a weathered hand on the top of her head and sigh.

"Its been almost ten years since I saw you last, Harriet." It was here that his blue eyes began to twinkle, "My, how you've grown." He removed his hand and gestured to the couches, urging the quintet to sit down.

"Sir," Harriet questioned as she sat down, "you knew me when I was a baby?"

"Oh, yes," answered the man, standing in front of them "In fact, it seems like just yesterday that you five were sitting on those very couches." Harriet thought she saw the twinkle in his eye vanish for a moment, but she must have imagined it for it was back, full force, a few seconds later. "But that, is for another time." He smiled at her, before turning around suddenly and taking something from his dest: a small bowl.

"Lemon-drop?"

Harriet was so surprised that she visibly gaped at the man, before snapping out of it. She cautiously reached into the bowl and pulled out one of the candies, waiting to be reprimanded, as she would've been back at the Dursleys' house. When he didn't say anything however, Harriet whispered "Thank-you."

None of the adults took the candy, so Dumbledore placed the bowl on his desk (but not before taking one for himself). He took a seat on the couch opposite them.

"Now, Harriet," he began, "I am sure you are wondering who I am." Harriet looked up at him from the lemon drop she was currently unwrapping because, as it turned out, that had been exactly what she had been wondering.

"I," he continued, "am Professor Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster here, at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Harriet wasn't sure what else to say to this. Of all things she was expecting Professor Dumbledore to be, she was not expecting him to be an eccentric-looking old man. "Its nice to meet you, sir."

"I will not waste your time with pleasantries," said Dumbledore, speaking not only to Harriet, who was now sucking happily on her candy, but the entire room, "I am sure you would all like to be on your way home."

"Actually, sir," requested James, in a tone that offered no room for argument,"We were hoping to have Madam Pomfrey have a look at her before we leave. Is she here?"

"I believe she is," answered Dumbledore, peering at them over his half-moon glasses, "However, I can't help but wonder if there is any specific reason as to why you wish to see her?"

"The Dursleys," said Lily, "were not nearly as kind to Harriet as you imagined."

"I see," Dumbledore sighed, regret darkening the twinkle in his piercing blue eyes, "Perhaps, another time, we could have a longer discussion and see what actions might be taken against them. But, for now, I am sure Madam Pomfrey would be more than happy to help you. Before you go, however, there are several things we much discuss. Your living arrangements-"

"All taken care of," interrupted Remus, just a bit impatiently. "Potter Manor has been cleaned, newly furnished, and, thanks to the help of several of the other Professors here, heavily warded. They can move in anytime they wish."

"Good, good," said Dumbledore, nodding towards his former student, "You have done an excellent job in preparing their home. Then again, I expected nothing less when I first assigned you the task." He paused here, letting his eyes rove over the group, before pausing on Sirius. "My concern now is where Sirius shall live." Sirius frowned, realizing that he had yet to consider that, himself. "You spent the night at the hospital wing in the care of Madam Pomfrey, did you not, Sirius? Am I right in assuming that you do not want to spend the rest of your life living there?"

"Yes," laughed Sirius, then he waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, "the Hogwarts hospital wing is not exactly an appropriate place to bring the ladies home to-" he stopped short, remembering Harriet's presence and, feeling Lily's glare on him, finished, quite pathetically, "converse with."

Harriet's mother glared, her father tried not to laugh, and her "Uncle" Remus snorted. Remus walked up and placed his hand on friend's shoulder.

"Well I hope that my flat is a place you consider conducive to "conversation,"" he smirked, "with the ladies, because I insist you move in with me."

"Moony, I couldn't possibly-" Sirius went to protest, but Remus waved it away.

"Shush, Sirius. As luck would have it, I have an extra room and my flat has been feeling quite empty, as of late."

"Thank you," Sirius said, sincerely, after a moment.

"No thanks necessary. For ten years I have been deprived of your company. Thats a lot of time to make up!" Remus gave his friend a mock wary look. "Not to mention, of course, the service I would be doing to society." Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?

"I mean," Remus said solemnly, "I shudder to think of the dire consequences that would occur if you attempted to cook."

Even Harriet's mother was unable to hide her laughter at this, although she tried desperately to cover it with a fake cough.

"I'm sure," said Dumbledore chuckling, "that the wizarding world appreciates your sacrifice, Remus. As will Madam Pomfrey."

"Who's Madam Pomfrey?" interrupted Harriet, worriedly looking at her parents. Professor Dumbledore seemed nice enough (and he was a friend of her parents, it seemed, which was important), but she had not yet heard enough of this 'Madam Pomfrey.'

"She's the healer who runs the hospital wing," assured her mother, running a hand through Harriet's perpetually messy hair, doing nothing to tame it whatsoever, "Don't worry. She's very nice."

Harriet nodded, still not completely convinced, but deciding to take her mother's word on it for now. Seeing both of her parents stand, she quickly followed suit, although she wasn't sure of where they were going.

"It was nice meeting you, Professor," Harriet repeated, slightly embarrassed and unsure of what else to say. If the professor noticed, he didn't act like it. Dumbledore merely gave her a small smile, looking utterly calm from his seat.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Harriet. I will be see you at the start of the year feast at Hogwarts, if not sooner." He held out his hand to her and Harriet reached out with hers to shake it. Isaura chose that moment to stick her head out of Harriet's sleeve, thoroughly confused as to what was going on. Dumbledore's hand jerked back, but, to his credit, he quickly calmed himself down.

"This is Isaura," Harriet told him awkwardly, not sure of what else to say, "my friend."

"Harriet," said Lily softly to her old professor, who was looking at the snake with surprise (an emotion Harriet got the sense that he didn't feel often), "can speak Parseltongue."

"I see," Dumbledore muttered, cautiously reaching forward and stroking Isaura's head with a gnarled finger. She hissed in pleasure, loosing her grip on Harriet's wrist. "You, Harriet, have given me much to think about."

Taking that as a dismissal, the group began to head for the door. Harriet gave him one last small wave, before following her parents out the archway and down the steps.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-June 30, 1981**

Once she reached the bottom, she found herself in a large corridor. She blinked, taken by surprise. The stone walls and floor were both dark grey, but the flaming torches lining the walls kept it from looking ominous. Even from the one hallway where they were, Harriet could tell that Hogwarts was huge. Harriet's father chuckled, seeing her face.

"Yea," he said, "that was my reaction, too."

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Harriet," grinned Remus. Her mother took her hand (the one without Isaura) once again and lead her down the halls, the others following behind them. The passageways were numerous and confusing, winding and twisting in all different directions. They passed by several different staircases (one of which, Harriet would have sworn moved) and too many doors to count.

At one point, they passed a large window. Harriet stopped, stunned. Walking over to it, she looked down at the land below: green fields, rolling hills, and a vast lake.

"Wow," she grinned. Isaura once again poked her head out of her sleeve and, seeing the landscape, gave a soft hiss in agreement. Harriet grinned at her, knowing Isaura would be very happy hunting on Hogwarts's grounds.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" smiled Lily. Harriet nodded at her, then turned to continue walking. Despite the intricacy of the corridors, her parents and their friends obviously knew it well and navigated it easily.

"Don't worry, Harriet," said Sirius breezily, when she brought up the point, "Once you start, you will get to know this place like the back of your hand." He smirked, "We might even be able to get you a map." Remus and her dad chuckled a bit, although Harriet's mum looked a bit confused. For once, Harriet wasn't the only one not in the joke.

"Did that picture just move?" gaped Harriet, eyeing a portrait of an old man in a large, purple bow-tie, who then proceeded to tip his hat to her.

"Sure," laughed James, "Why? You didn't expect it to hang around doing nothing all day, did you?" Harriet didn't say anything, not sure what to expect anymore. This day was, so far, nothing at all like she would have guessed. A part of her still thought it might be some sort of elaborate prank by the Dursleys, to teach her a lesson.

Harriet was so busy looking at everything (she had actually wandered quite a bit ahead of her parents, although she was careful not to go the wrong way or wander so far that she couldn't see them) that she did not pay attention to where she was going and found herself bumping into somebody.

"Oh," she cried, as she fell on the floor. Picking herself up to sit on her knees, she looked up through her crooked glasses to see a tall man sneering at her. He had greasy hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. She opened her mouth to apologize, but somebody called her name.

"Harriet? Are you okay?" Standing up completely, she looked over her shoulder to see her mum, dad, Remus, and Sirius walking quickly towards her. She gave them a small smile to show that she was okay, only to once again face the pale man, who was now glaring at her fiercely.

"I'm sorry, sir," said Harriet, unsurely, "I wasn't watching where I was going. Are you alright?"

"Harriet Potter," the man sneered, as an answer, "Not even a first year and already strutting about the school like you own it. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm sorry, sir," repeated Harriet, this time more confusedly and slightly angry, "But do we know each other?"

The man opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted.

"Snape." Harriet felt her father's hand on her shoulder, "I'd say it was a pleasure to see you again, Snivellus, but I'd be lying." Harriet had never heard her father's voice sound the way it did, except, maybe for the time he talked to the Dursleys. Then again, Harriet hadn't known her father for very long.

"Potter, Black," sneered Snape, who had paled at the sound of the name her father had called him, but in anger, not fear. "Lupin, I-" he stopped abruptly, his voice taking on a different tone. "Lily!"

Harriet's mother had arrived on the scene and Harriet watched curiously as her mother looked at Snape with an odd expression.

"Severus," she said, quietly.

"I thought you were-," Snape was quiet, unable to finish his sentence.

"Never going to wake up?" asked Lily softly, green eyes never wavering from her old friend.

"I heard the rumors," he said abruptly, "but I never thought that they were-" Again, he seemed unable to finish. Lily didn't say anything, waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts. She felt her daughter's worried eyes on her and gave her a small smile. Next them, Sirius watched, tense, as if waiting to pounce if Snape did anything. All he did was sigh, though.

"Can we talk?" he pressed, "Privately?"

"I don't know-" Lily began.

"Please?" asked Snape, though his expression never changed, "It will only take a few minutes." Lily sighed and nodded. When her husband went to protest she quieted him.

"Its fine, James. Why don't you and Sirius and Remus take Harriet down to Madam Pomfrey and get started without me? I'll be there soon." James nodded sharply and, fixing Snape with a hard glare, he and his two friends carefully lead Harriet towards the hospital wing, once again. Harriet turned around, giving her mother a small wave, which was returned, before they turned a corner and were gone.

Snape opened the door to an empty classroom. "We can talk in here." Nodding, Lily walked inside, followed by Snape as he closed the door behind them.

* * *

**Lily Potter and Severus Snape, Empty Classroom, Hogwarts-June 30, 1981**

The pair stood in the dusty classroom, an awkward silence permeating the air, which neither of them wished to break. Lily, being the Gryffindor, went to speak first, but Snape beat her to it.

"I suppose I should begin by expressing how deeply sorry I am," Snape interrupted the beginning of her speech, knowing that if he didn't get it out now, he never would, "Not only for becoming a Death Eater, but for causing the rift in our friendship all those years ago."

"Severus," sighed Lily.

"Please." interrupted Snape, "I already know what you are going to say. But Lily," here, he walked towards her and looked her straight in the eye, "I thought you were  _gone_. For the past ten years, every mistake I've every made has come back to haunt me every second of everyday. You have no idea what it was like, knowing you were almost dead because of me-"

"Because of you?" Lily's eyes narrowed. "You were the one in the pub that night-"

"I tried," said Snape desperately, as Lily moved away from him, "I tried to stop him, as soon as I realized it was you-"

"But you would have left my husband and daughter to die?" retorted Lily. She expected him to argue against the accusation, but instead, he simply bowed his head.

"I won't deny it."

"Severus," repeated Lily and this time he did not interrupt, "You were my best friend for so long. You taught me about magic and wizardry and Hogwarts. You were there for me when Petunia began to shun me." Lily took a shuddering breathe, "But you became a Death Eater-"

"As soon as I realized what I had done," interjected Snape, "I went to Dumbledore. I began working as a spy for the Light!-" Lily continued over him.

"You betrayed my family to Voldemort," she shook her head at his objections. "You have no idea," she said slowly, "How much I  _want_  to forgive you. But, after everything, I don't think I can." She turned away and made to leave, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"But I love you, Lily," said Snape quietly, reaching out to grab her. She shook him off.

"I'm sorry, Severus." She spoke softly, knowing that any louder and she might start crying, "But I just can't believe that. Not anymore." Snape, in a fit of sheer desperation, pulled out his wand and pointed it to the door.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Lily was brought up short by the silvery-figure that now stood between her and the door: a doe, almost identical to her own patronus, was looking back at her. Lily took a trembling hand and reached out, as if to touch it. When she did, the doe shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the air.

"Its you, Lily," said Snape quietly, looking everywhere but her. "Its always been you."

"Severus," said Lily slowly, turning around in order to face him, "I never meant to hurt you, believe me."

"Then forgive me." said Snape, sounding far more weak and pleading than he had in years, something he would do only for the red-haired witch in front of him. 

"No, Severus!" Lily snapped, perhaps a bit too harshly. She saw the hurt on the face of the man in front of her (the same man who used to be her best friend) and she softened. "There was a time when I could've felt the same way, but things have changed. I have a family, now- a daughter and a husband, both of whom I love with all my heart." A combination of hurt and anger seeped into her voice. "There is no way I could possibly do what you are suggesting-"

"I'm not suggesting," interjected Snape, "that you be anything more than my friend, again. I rather have you as my friend than not be in my life at all." Snape had imagined this conversation many times in his head before, when he had thought about Lily finally waking up from that blasted "sleep." He had known, from the start, that there was no possibility of Lily leaving her family for him. She wouldn't be the Lily he loved if she did that. It had taken time, but he had eventually come to terms with the fact that, if Lily ever woke up, he would rather take her friendship over nothing.

Lily walked up to him and took one of his hands in hers, looking him directly in the eye. Neither spoke for a few minutes, as Lily seemed to search for something in his expression, which was just as inscrutable as ever. Whatever it was, she apparently found it, for she gave his hands a brief squeeze.

"I forgive you, Severus," she said, choosing her words carefully, "but be warned. You have one chance. Thats it."

"Thats all I'll need," said Snape quickly. Lily nodded slowly, a small smile coming to her lips for the first time since she had entered the classroom.

"I'll hold you to that," she said. She let go of his hand and he let it drop to his side. "I would love," she told him, "to stay and talk to you, but my daughter is currently in the hospital wing and I need to be there with her, right now." Snape nodded.

"I understand," he said, truthfully. It was, after all, such a "Lily" type thing to do, so he tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, even though she was leaving to go be with  _Potter_  and his  _spawn_. She heard it though, and smiled knowingly, slightly proud of his attempt.

"Its been ten years though," she smiled, "and I'm sure I have missed a lot. Perhaps, one of these days, we could get together for lunch? Maybe you could catch me up?"

Snape simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak, his face betraying nothing.

"Until then," he told her. She gave him one last smile (Oh! How he had missed that smile!) before retreating quickly out of the classroom. Snape, however, could do nothing but fall into one of the chairs, placing his head in his hands.

He was more exhausted than he had ever been.

* * *

**Hospital Wing, Hogwarts-June 30, 1981**

Lily opened the doors to the hospital wing and blinked. She had forgotten how  _white_  it was. Glancing around, she finally saw Remus, Sirius, and her husband huddled near a bed, around which the curtains were drawn. Sirius currently held Isaura in his hands, just a bit cautiously, but the snake seemed to be on her best behavior. As Lily walked quickly over to them, she idly wondered if that was something that her daughter had requested. Remus was the firs to notice her.

"Lily," he greeted. James whipped around, almost falling over backwards when he realized how close his wife was to him.

"Lily," he exclaimed, much more loudly than Remus, only to be 'shush'-ed by the werewolf. "Are you alright?" he asked at a lower volume.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "Where is Harriet?"

"She's behind the curtain," answered James, looking over his wife carefully, clearly not believing her. "Poppy gave her a a pair of pajamas to try on. Are you  _sure_  you are alright?"

Lily cupped her husband's cheeks in her hands and laughed slightly. She smiled at him.

"I am fantastic," before he could protest, she was quick to assure him, "I'll explain everything later. For now, lets just focus on our daughter." James nodded and, after Lily gave him a quick kiss, the couple turned to Remus and Sirius, both of whom were doing a horrible job at pretending not to be eavesdropping.

"I'm fine, you two," said a still smiling Lily, assuring them both, "No need to listen in- and you call yourself Marauders!" She teased. The two men visibly relaxed and gave her a sheepish grin, ashamed at being caught.

"I'm done!" A tiny voice interrupted the adults and a small hand shot out of the curtains, holding a small pile of clothing out. Lily took them from Harriet, while James and Remus worked on opening the curtains up. Harriet sat on top of the sheets, clothed in the regulation Hospital pajamas, waiting patiently. The pajamas, which fit much better than her other clothes, only served to highlight how thin she was, and as she finished pulling the shirt down, the adults were able to get a glimpse of several bruises they had yet to see before.

"Are you okay?" Harriet asked, worried. The four wizards (her mother having returned a few minutes earlier) were looking angry at something and Harriet couldn't help but wonder if it was something that she had done (as was usually the case at the Dursleys').

"Just fine, Harriet," smiled her father, seemingly calmer than the others. He slowly reached over to the bed where she was sitting and pulled the sheets back for her. "Get underneath the sheets. That way, you won't get cold while you wait for the Madam Pomfrey to look you over."

Harriet goggled at him for a moment, unable to comprehend the fact that somebody actually cared about her enough to worry if she got cold, before quickly wiggling underneath the warm sheets, feeling instant relief at the comfort they provided. She let out a relaxed sigh as her mother made sure she was all tucked in.

"Relax, Harriet," she said gently, "Madam Pomfrey should be back in a few minutes."

"Where did she go?" questioned Harriet, having taken an immediate liking to the stern, yet nice, healer.

"She went to go check her stores for some salves and potions," explained Remus. Harriet looked up at him, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Potions?"

"Yes, dear," said Lily, "In the wizarding world, potions can work similar to Muggle medicines. Of course, they can do plenty of other things, too. You know my friend, Severus, the man you just bumped into?" The Marauders blanched at hearing Lily call Snape a friend, but Harriet nodded, remembering him.

"He didn't seem to like me" she informed her mother, who just smiled gently at her, eyes guarded.

"Its not that he didn't like you, love," her mother informed her slowly, seeming to think for a moment, "he just had a lot on his mind when you bumped into him." Harriet recognized when information was being kept from her, but decided not to press the point just yet. " You see, he works as the Potions professor, here at Hogwarts."

"Really?" asked Harriet, trying to sit up, only to be forced down by her father, who tutted softly at her. "Can he teach me?"

"Well," laughed Lily, "thats his job."

"You'll learn loads of other stuff, too," said James, quick to try to move onto a topic where he would be able to employ language suitable for ten year olds. "Like Charms and Transfiguration-my best subject- and Care of Magical Creatures and Quidditch-"

"Quidditch isn't a class, James," admonished Lily, although her lips twitching gave away her amusement.

"Lily is right," agreed Sirius, who had, at this point, given Isaura back to her rightful owner. Harriet and her mum and dad and Remus all stared at him, astonished that he was actually agreeing with the red-haired witch. "Quidditch is so much  _more_  than a class!" Her mother rolled her eyes, so Harriet took the chance to ask, rather hesitantly, "What is Quidditch?"

Both Sirius and her father looked as if they had never heard anything more awful in their entire lives, something that Harriet found both funny and worrisome. Their eyes widened and they looked as if they were in danger of fainting.

"What is  _Quidditch?_ " her father gasped out, over dramatically, placing his hand to his forward and making a huge show of almost falling over backwards in shock. "Its only the best sport in the world!"

"Then how come I've never heard of it?" asked Harriet. Remus chuckled.

"Its a wizarding sport only, Harriet," he informed her. She nodded in realization, feeling a bit stupid for asking a question when the answer seemed so obvious. Maybe the Dursleys were right and she shouldn't ask questions. Then she realized that the Dursleys were all a bit stupid and they had never really been right about anything before and her parents had not once admonished her for asking questions today. Thus, she decided to take advantage of it and asked the next question that popped into her head.

"How do you play?"

"Well," began Sirius, eager to explain it to her, only to be interrupted by a stern voice.

"Don't you dare, Mr. Black!" Madam Pomfrey had entered the hospital wing, walking purposefully towards them. She had in her hand a piece of parchment, along with several different vials, each containing some sort of oddly colored liquid. "I need to examine Harriet and I can't have you prattling away about Quaffles or Beaters or that oh-so _-amazing_ -stunt you pulled in your sixth year or some other such nonsense while I do it!"

"It was my seventh year," he mumbled, looking highly put out. Harriet giggled at him as the nurse placed her items on the table next to the bed. She stopped short at the sight of the snake that Harriet was currently stroking, but, at the pointed look from both Lily and James, the nurse quickly regained her professionalism. She gestured for Harriet to come up from under the sheets and began to talk as Harriet sat up, handing her snake over to her startled father. Her godfather snickered at her dad's startled face, gleeful at how karma often worked, since James had been laughing at him earlier for his fear of the small reptile.

"Alright," said Madam Pomfrey, "am I right in guessing that you have never been examined by a healer in a wizarding fashion?" Harriet shook her head 'no,' so Madam Pomfrey explained, "Well, its simple really. I won't even have to touch you-just scan you. I'll wave my wand over you," she gestured to the wand in her hand, "and the results appear on the parchment." She pointed to the parchment on the table. "I give you potions and anything else you might need based on the results."

Harriet, nodded, not really sure what was about to happen, but trusting her parents enough to know that if they had brought her to Madam Pomfrey, then they must have really needed her to do this and that Harriet should sit still. Harriet gave another nod, more firm, and Madam Pomfrey took her wand and pointed it at her. A soft blue light shot out of out and covered her, making Harriet gasp. She felt a hand grab hers and shot a grateful smile at her father, before looking again at Madam Pomfrey, who was working to direct the light up and down her entire body.

"Done," she announced to a relieved Harriet. The blue light vanished and Madam Pomfrey placed her wand back in her robes. She picked up her parchment and began to read it, her smile getting smaller and smaller with each passing minute. She tutted softly and sighed, giving Harriet a sad look, which Harriet recognized immediately as pity, which made her squirm.

"Is everything all right?" asked her mum, worried, while Sirius helped Harriet back under the covers. The young witch reached over and took back her snake, wanting to feel the familiar comfort of having the smooth body in her hands. Madam Pomfrey seemed to think of the best way to answer her mother.

"The scans show quite a few...problems. Severe malnutrition, several cuts and bruises,-but those can be fixed easily enough- breaks that never healed properly, bruises, cuts, a few burns. There are signs of a concussion, she's behind on all her vaccinations...honestly!" cried a distraught Poppy, "Did those Muggles ever even take her to a doctor?"

"I doubt it," said Harriet's father grimly, while her mother began running her hand through Harriet's hair (a sensation that Harriet found she rather liked).

"Well," sighed the witch, "as I said earlier, I can fix up her cuts and bruises before she leaves here today and make sure that all of breaks are properly set. I can also make sure that she isn't suffering any ill effects from the concussion."

"What can we do?" demanded Remus.

"Well, she'll need to be started on a regimen of nutrient potions, which I can set up for you to give her every time she eats. Make sure to give her good, healthy, meals, along with plenty of rest." The nurse paused, adding, as an afterthought, "And love. As corny as it sounds, love does wonders for children in cases like this."

"I can assure you," her mother said, "that one won't be a problem."

On the bed, Harriet followed the proceedings only half-heartedly. Her chest had an odd feeling in it: as if it was filled by a large, warm balloon. She had honestly never been this happy in her entire life. Never-not once!- had the Dursleys had a conversation like this about her, where  _her_  needs and  _her_ problems were discussed, instead of Dudley's. Nobody had cared enough. Her hands gripped the blankets of the bed and Harriet was surprised to note that the reason her vision had gone so blurry was because tears had welled up in her eyes.

Isaura, seeing her young mistress's distress, urgently hissed, " _Isss eeverythiing allriight, pequenina?"_ Harriet quickly nodded, trying to discreetly wipe her tears from her eyes, but her father noticed.

"Harriet," he questioned anxiously, "are you okay? Are you in pain?" All eyes were on her as she shook her head rapidly.

"Do you mean it?" she asked, with hope so raw that it almost hurt. "Do I really get to come stay with you?"

"Oh, Harriet," sighed her mum, sitting on one side of the bed and pulling her close to her, "of  _course_  you do."

"We are sorry," her father told her, moving to the other side of the bed, "that you had to live with those gits"-

"James!" scolded her mother, giving her father a sharp look. Her dad rolled his eyes at her, but amended his statement nonetheless, although he made sure to shoot a smirk at Harriet when her mum's back was turned.

"We're sorry that you had to go live with them," he repeated, "but I promise," and here, his tone became fiercer than Harriet had ever heard it, "that you will  _never_  have to go live with them again." Then, for the second time that day, Harriet felt herself being swept up into a tight hug from both her parents, Isaura hissing her protest at being caught in the middle, as her godfather and "uncle" watched on, grins on their faces.

* * *

 **Potter Manor -**   **June 30, 1991**

Harriet blinked as she stepped out of the fireplace once again, this time, her father's arm holding her tight against his side. After their impromptu bonding moment in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had finished her examination and prescribed Harriet several different potions regimens, some nutritive and and others not. The kind nurse then allowed the group to Floo to their new home using the fireplace in her private quarters. Harriet wasn't thrilled about the new means of transportation, but suspected that it would have been much worse had her father not volunteered to go with her.

One dizzying moment later, Harriet found herself standing in one of the most nicely furnished living rooms she had ever had the pleasure of being in. The room was large, but the combination of dark wood furniture, plush couches, and soft carpets made it look much more cozy than it could have been.

"Moony did a good job, didn't he?" Her father asked her, leading her away from the fireplace so that the others wouldn't run them over. Harriet simply nodded, taking in the large house. She could see that a large doorway led from the living room into what looked to be the main hallway of the house, which, from what Harriet could see, lead to the front door, kitchen, and a staircase to the second floor, where the bedrooms most likely were. Isaura, curled around Harriet's neck this time, eyed the large windows greedily, no doubt imagining the lazy afternoons she could spend curled up under them, sunning herself.

"Oh, Remus," came her mum's voice from behind her, "you did such a fantastic job!"

"Thank you, Lily," responded Remus, "I hoped that you would like it."

"'Like it?'" questioned Harriet's father in a tone that clearly meant he worried for his friend's mental health, "You've restored Potter Manor to its original glory!"

"It almost makes me expect to see Andrew and Elizabeth offering to make us a snack," Sirius said with a melancholy smile, "like they used to when we were home from Hogwarts for the holidays."

"My parents would be proud," James reported, to his now sincerely touched best friend.

"Why don't we take a look around the rest of the place?" suggested Lily. "Then, we could eat some lunch." Turning to her, Harriet's mum said, "How's that sound, love?"

Harriet nodded, "If you show me where the kitchen is, I can get started on cooking while you look around."

"You-?" Lily stared at her daughter before shaking her head rapidly. "No! You misunderstood! I'm not asking you to cook lunch for us! I was wondering if you would like me to cook some lunch for you!"

"But, why?" started Harriet. The Dursleys always made her cook for them. She saw no reason for it to be any different here, even though her parents had shown more kindness to her in a few hours than the Dursleys did in their entire lives.

"Harriet," her dad said in a tone that indicated that he wanted her to listen very carefully, "we are your parents. That means we take care of you, not the other way around." Harriet went to protest again, but her father shook his head. "No buts. You will have chores, of course, but none that are not appropriate for your age. Do you understand?"

Harriet nodded slowly, as if she did understand. Although she didn't..not really.

"Well," her dad said, clapping his hands together in an attempt to redraw everybody's attention and break the awkward silence that had befallen them. "Why don't we give you a tour of the rest of the house?" He added, jokingly, "I haven't been here in over nine years, though, so forgive me if I get us lost."

Her mother rolled her eyes, "Then maybe we should let Remus lead?" she pointed out. "He was, after all, the one who furnished it. I think he should do the honors." Remus went to protest, but Sirius shut him up by giving him a good hard nudge towards the main hall.

"Alright," he said with an exasperated sigh, shooting a glare at his friend, although it was clear that he didn't really mean it. "This is the living room," he began unsurely.

"I never would have guessed," Harriet quipped, before realizing what she had said, and clapping her hands over her mouth, horrorstruck. Before she could apologize to Remus, though, she realized that the adults were laughing, not angry.

"Your cheek," said her father in a proud voice, looking affectionately at his wife, who gave him a small smile.

"Fair enough, Harriet," chuckled Remus, redirecting her attention. "Perhaps we should move onto the rest of the house?" From that point, Remus was much more confident, Harriet's joke having broken the ice. She was lead through the first floor of the house, shown a spacious and well equipped, kitchen, an elegant formal dining room, and a more casual (but just as nice) dining room meant for the family. The extensive library was also on the tour and, upon seeing it, Harriet couldn't help but smile wistfully, imaging how many hours she would have spent reading there, if she were allowed.

"Something tells me you will be spending a lot of time here, Harriet," Remus said, seeing her face. Harriet blanched.

"You mean I'm allowed?"

"Of course you're allowed," her father informed her cheerfully, although something darkened in his eyes. Harriet gave him a huge smile, which he returned.

"Not now, though," said Sirius, gently. "We still have to tour the rest of the house." Harriet let herself be lead away from the library, giving it one last wistful glance before turning the corner into the foyer.

"Upstairs," Remus explained to the group, as he began climbing the steps, "Are four bedrooms, two of which are yours, the other two are guest bedrooms. There are bathrooms adjoining each room, along with the separate partial bathroom downstairs-"

"Yes, Moony," sighed Sirius, as they reached the landing. "We all know that."

"Harriet doesn't," Remus retorted, as the young witch in question waited patiently for Remus to continue. They walked down the hall, ignoring the first two doors, as Remus explained. "The first two bedrooms are the guest bedrooms," he stopped at the end of the hall, where two doors were located across the hall from each other, "and the two bedrooms at the end of the hall belong to you and your parents. I thought you might like to be close to each other, especially after all these years."

Her mum and dad reached for the larger door, indicating the master bedroom, and opened it. Peering inside, Harriet couldn't help but be impressed even further with Remus's taste. Unlike the living room, the furniture, including a wardrobe, dresser, and desk, was a carmel colored wood, and the lightly patterned bedding on the four-poster bed and the similarly colored carpets, along with several different windows and lights and lightly tanned walls, served to make it open and airy.

Both of the eldest Potters smiled at their friend in the hall and closed the door.

"Its lovely, Remus," Harriet's mother told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek as a thanks.

"It is," nodded her father, then, adding, more seriously, "but I'm not kissing you."

"Noted," smirked Remus, before turning to Harriet.

Harriet glanced hesitantly up at the door labeled  _Harriet's Room_ , unsure if she should open it. At the encouraging faces of the adults around her, she reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, unsure of what she would see.

She had to bite back a gasp.

The room was larger than even Dudley's first room at the Dursleys' and at least twice as nice. The walls were a blue so dark that were almost grey, contrasting greatly with the cream curtains surrounding two large windows, located in a nook at the opposite end of the room. The large windows in question were equipped with a lovely pair of window seats, cushioned with bright floral pillows, making it perfect for sitting and looking out at the grounds surrounding the house. Opposite one of the window seats, in a small section of wall in the nook, was a large mirror, the exact height needed for a girl to stand in front of to choose her outfit for the day. Also in the nook were white-shelves, originally a bookshelf, but which Remus had transformed into shelves holding more toys than Harriet had ever seen.

If the small nook was lovely, then the rest of the bedroom had to be the most wonderful place Harriet had ever seen. The bed was soft and inviting, with its soft white-bedding (trimmed with grey) and large, plush pillows. On the side of the bed closest to the door was a small bedside table, equipped with a lamp and a small drawer. Against the wall of the opposite side of the bed (closer to The Nook, as Harriet had begun to call it in her mind) was another bookshelf, black, this time, crammed tightly with a mixture of books ranging from reference to textbooks to pleasure reading.

A small desk sat near the wall in front of the foot of the bed, along with a matching chair. There was a small beanbag chair stored underneath it, within Harriet's easy reach. Remus had apparently had the forethought to stock it with pens and pencils and paper, which Harriet was familiar with, but he had also added different size pieces of parchment and what looked like an old feather quill and an ink-well. A small tree was placed beside the desk for decoration. Above the desk, mounted on the wall, there was a group of white picture frames, most of which were empty and waiting to be filled, but one of them had a picture of both her parents, Sirius, and Remus, that Harriet recognized to be from their wedding day.

"This is mine," she gasped, taking a few hesitant steps into the room, letting her look more closely at the tree next to the desk. It took Harriet a minute to realize that it was real, littered with several blooming flowers and what looked to be butterflies.

"Yes. I wasn't sure what you'd like," Remus said quietly, misinterpreting her expression. "If you don't like it, we could change-"

Harriet shook her head rapidly. She had no plans to change the bedroom anytime soon. Her mum giggled at her enthusiasm.

"Well, Moony," Sirius smiled, "I think you did well." Remus rolled his eyes and watched Harriet for a moment. She had taken Isaura and placed her the base of the tree. The snake quickly wound herself around it and climbed up to one of the branches, a small butterfly flitting to another perch, and and let out a his of pleasure, just as pleased as her mistress was with their newfound home.

" _III thhiiink, pequenina,"_ she hissed, " _thhaat we wiiill beee verrry happpy heere."_

Looking at the picture of her newfound family smiling on her parent's wedding day, Harriet couldn't stop the smile that over took her face.

" _Yes,"_  agreed Harriet to herself, as her picture mother blew her kisses and her father waved to her, unaware of the rabbit-ears Sirius was making behind his back as Remus tried to stop him,  _"I think we will."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there is that chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Just a quick note on Snape-some people might think that he is a bit OOC here, and he sort of is. But keep in mind that Lily (his best friend, the girl he loves, and whose "death" was partially his fault) is alive. How would you react? Snape might be an idiot about some things, but he is not stupid. I always thought that, if given the chance to do everything over, Snape would take advantage of the opportunity, regardless of the fact that he could only be friends with her and would have to watch her be married to his mortal enemy. But he'll still be Snape: grouchiness and sarcasm and all. Don't expect for him to start handing out teddy-bears anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".**

**~Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Lily and the Marauders, The Kitchen, Potter Manor-June 30, 1991**

Leaving Harriet to explore her room for a bit, Lily, along with Remus, James, and Sirius, headed downstairs to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Lily didn't really know how much food was in the house, so she wasn't quite sure what she would make. However, Harriet had assured her that she would eat whatever was on her plate, so Lily didn't really have to worry about that. Reaching the kitchen, Lily headed straight for the various cabinets, opening and closing each of them in turn in order to gauge which foods she would be able to make. She was pleased to see that Remus had gone grocery shopping for them as well.

"I think that its safe to say that we won't be going hungry anytime soon," she chuckled, reaching into the refrigerator to get some slices of bread so that she could get started on sandwiches. "Does grilled cheese sound alright?"

"That sounds great," assured Remus. Sirius and her husband were oddly silent, though, so, once she had turned the stove on, she turned worriedly to them. They, along with Remus, were sitting on the stools pushed up to one of the kitchen counters. They were watching her expectantly.

"What?" she demanded, hands on her hips, waiting for the pan to be hot enough for her to grill the sandwiches.

"You never told us," said Sirius, never one for tact, especially when the case called for it, "what happened in the classroom between you and Snivellus."

"Snape," Lily stressed. "Say it with me, Sirius, ' _Snape.'_ " Sirius rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look, which she promptly ignored by turning around and getting started on the first sandwich. She heard a sigh behind her and the sound of a chair being pushed out. A few seconds later she felt hands wrap themselves tightly around her waist and a chin rest itself on her shoulder.

"Lily," murmured her husband voice next to her ear. She abandoned the sandwich and moved her body so that she was facing him. He looked down on her, face clouded with worry. "We just want to make sure you are okay."

"I am okay," she assured him, "Severus and I had a long conversation, the details of which you don't need to know," she gave him a pointed look, "and I've decided," she began a bit slowly, knowing her husband would not take too well to what she was about to say, "to give him another chance-"

"Lily!" sputtered not James, but Sirius. "Are you mental?" he demanded, glaring at her. "He's a Death Eater!"

"Was," corrected Lily, leaning slightly so she could face Sirius from around James, who was still holding her tightly. "He turned spy after we..." she trailed off. "He was my best friend for years. The least I can do is give him another chance."

"Lily," began James, hesitantly, but his wife stopped him.

"Don't try to change my mind," she snapped, glaring at him with a fire that instantly brought him back to their Hogwarts days, when they were young and she hated him. "Don't you trust me?"

"I trust you," James was quick to assure her. "Its  _him_  I don't trust."

"Neither do I," scowled Sirius. He gave Lily a searching look. "It must have been some pretty convincing evidence to have you trust him like that."

"It was," she informed the room, ignoring Sirius's tone. "Although, I still don't trust him completely-"

"Then how can you ask  _us_  to?" James asked her.

"I'm not asking you to trust him," informed Lily, smiling at him and bringing her hands up over his shoulders to clasp around his neck. "I'm just asking you to give him a chance." James looked at his wife's face and caved, nodding a bit reluctantly. Sirus grumbled something incoherent and Remus, the one Marauder who held no personal grudge with Snape, simply nodded his assent. Lily smirked, knowing that her next conditions would be a bit harder for them to follow.

"That means no insults, no taunting, no pranks-"

"Aw, Lil's," pouted Sirius.

"Do it for Harriet, if for no other reason," beseeched Lily, knowing that asking the Marauders to be kind to Snape was as unlikely as Voldemort expressing the desire to be a ballerina, but knowing that they (the Marauders, that is, not Voldemort) would do it, given the proper incentive.

"What does this have to do with Harriet?" asked James, looking down at his wife.

"Harriet needs as many people bolstering her confidence as possible," said Lily. "You  _heard_  what Madam Pomfrey said. The last thing Harriet needs is to take Potions with Snape and have him hating her the entire time just for being associated with you three. Something that you know he will do if the things between you three stay the way they are." The three men in question looked sheepishly at each other. Lily took a deep breath, "If the prophecy is true, Harriet needs all the friends she can get and Snape is a powerful ally to have."

"Don't bring that blasted thing into this," snapped James. "It isn't going to happen. We won't let it!"

"You don't know that for sure," countered Lily, feeling her throat close and her heart beat hard against her chest at the thought of the fulfillment of the prophecy. "We can try, but there are no guarantees. Its better to be safe, rather than sorry."

The three men exchanged glances, silently communicating, something they had learned after years of knowing each other. Sirius and James seemed reluctant but Remus shrugged.

"I say its Lily's call. She knows Snape better than all of us. If she says he has changed, than I, for one, believe her." Sirius and James grimaced at their friend's careful logic, something that they normally enjoyed for getting them all out of trouble, but hated when it incriminated them or forced them into something they rather not do. Lily, sensing she had won, smiled at them.

"You may not like him, but if you can at the very least be cordial to him, it will make Harriet's days at school a lot easier, especially if she is sorted into Slytherin."

"Harriet won't be sorted into Slytherin," scoffed James. "She'll be in Gryffindor." Seeing his wife's look he added, completely truthfully, "Not that it matters, of course. I'd love her no matter what."

"Right," agreed Sirius, taking a sip of the Firewhiskey he had taken from the fridge for himself and his friends; Remus had opened his, but was just running a finger idly up and down the glass and James had yet to even look at his, "but she'll be in Gryffindor."

"Are you sure?" asked Remus, raising an eyebrow at his friend. He seemed to have seen the same thing Lily had. "When was the last time you ever heard of a Parselmouth in Gryffindor?"

Dead silence filled the kitchen.

James let go of his wife and held out his hand. Sirius, understanding, reached out and managed to hand James his Firewhiskey. James took a large sip as he sat down.

"It doesn't make any sense," frowned James, trying to fit the facts together in a way that made sense, but failing every time. "There are  _no_  Parselmouths in the history of my family, nor," he said glancing at his wife, "I am assuming, yours." She shook her head.

"It isn't good." muttered Sirius.

"Are you saying it matters?" demanded Lily, hands on her hips. "That it will make you look at her differently? Love her differently? Think-"

"What?" gasped Sirius, "Of course not! I don't give a rat's  _hat_  about whether or not she can talk to snakes!" Lily tried to apologize, but Sirius cut her off. "You  _know_  how ridiculously prejudiced the wizarding world is, though! The minute they find out she can speak Parseltongue, they will label her as some sort of evil wizard! Next thing you know, they will be calling her the next Voldemort-!"

A small gasp cut of Sirius's rant far more effectively than any loud bang could. Every head in the room whipped around to the doorway of the kitchen where Harriet stood frozen, wide eyed and trembling.

"Harriet," began Lily, but Harriet interrupted, sounding slightly hysterical.

"I'm sorry," she squeaked, terrified, "I didn't mean to overhear, I promise!"

"Harriet," said James this time, a bit more worried about his daughter.

"I just smelt something burning and I wanted to make sure everything was okay!"

"Burning?" frowned Lily. She whipped around to notice that the sandwich she had put on the stove was, indeed, burning. She worked quickly, turning off the stove and moving the pan to the sink, dousing it with water.

"Harriet," James said loudly, effectively startling her enough to calm her down. She blinked away her tears. "Come here," he beckoned to his lap, speaking firmly, but gently. Harriet walked over to him hesitantly. When she got close enough, James picked up his daughter, doing his best to ignore the way she flinched, and placed her on his lap. He put his arms firmly around her.

"Calm down, Prongslette," James ordered, but not raising his voice. "You aren't in trouble and we aren't mad." Harriet stopped squirming and looked up at him, green eyes shining more than usual.

"You aren't?"

"No," informed Lily as she walked closer to them and knelt down, so she was looking her daughter in the eyes. "We aren't. We just want to know how much you heard." James held his breath. The last thing any of them wanted was for her to have heard about the prophecy.

"Just the last bit," she whispered. "About how talking to snakes is bad." She shook her heard rapidly. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! I won't do it anymore, I swear!"

"Harriet," shushed Lily, "talking to snakes is not bad."

Harriet blinked. "But Sirius said-"

"You misunderstood, Prongslette," informed Sirius gently. "Talking to snakes is  _not_ bad. It just has a nasty reputation in the wizarding world." It was clear from Harriet's expression that she didn't quite see the distinction.

"Harriet," Remus began, speaking softly. Harriet turned to him expectantly. "What would you say if I told you that I was a werewolf?" Harriet gaped at him for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

"What?" she finally managed to get out. Remus chuckled as the others watched, curious as to where he was going.

"It's true. I'm a werewolf." At Harriet's wide eyes, Remus hastened to explain that he was perfectly normal every other day of the month, calming her down. "That being said," he told her firmly, "if you  _ever_  see me as a wolf on the full moon, get away as fast as you can. I would never hurt you intentionally, but I cannot control myself as a wolf. Are we clear?" Harriet nodded, then bit her lip.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, Harriet, I'm telling you this because the wizarding world doesn't have a very positive view of people with my...condition."

"Why not?"

"Because," the man sighed, looking tired, "in the past, werewolves haven't lived past their reputation and really proven themselves to be more than what people think they are: beasts. Many have been seen as cruel, bloodthirsty, and barbaric."

"But its not fair!" Harriet protested. " _You_  aren't any of those things!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Remus smiled at her, "but sadly the wizarding world isn't as accepting. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Harriet's face scrunched up in concentration.

"Wizards are idiots?" she asked, perfectly serious. James threw his head back and laughed loudly, making her jump, while Sirius snickered.

"Not exactly," Remus informed her, amusedly. "My point is that the wizarding world is a highly prejudiced place. Just because they view a certain ability as dark or evil, doesn't necessarily mean that the person who possesses that ability is. An ability is only as dark as the wizard who uses it, if that makes sense."

"Like me being a Parcel-Parsel-"

"Parselmouth," finished James. "and exactly. Just because you can talk to snakes doesn't mean anything, as long as you use it well. Just be yourself and try your hardest. If people find out about your ability and start saying things, hold your head high and remember who you are."

Harriet nodded and James pressed a kiss to her head. "Now, lets go find some food," he said, easily scooping her up and getting off his chair. "Its well past time for you to eat something."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- July 13, 1991**

Since the few weeks that Harriet had arrived, life at Potter Manor had settled down into a comfortable rhythm. Both Sirius and her father had began working as Auror's for the Ministry. Since they had been away for so long, they would work for one year under a senior Auror on a trial basis, after which, if everything went well, they would be able to take on their proper titles as fully fledged dark wizard catchers.

As for her mum, she had gotten back her job at St. Mungo's, although she only worked part time, usually for a few hours after dinner, once her father had come home. Her mum planned on going back to work full time once Harriet was settled at Hogwarts. Harriet could tell that her mother loved her job and, currently, she worked at the Maternity ward of the hospital. However, she hoped to eventually be moved to where she had been working before: the "Emergency Room," of sorts.

Remus had managed to find a job at a small bookstore not to far from his house. When he had first begun looking, Sirius had offered to help him find a job at the Ministry, who was doing their best to keep him happy in hopes that he wouldn't sue them for wrongful imprisonment, but Remus declined. Less than a week later, Remus stumbled upon a tiny bookstore that dealt in the sales and restoration of rare books. The owner was an old wizard (Sirius speculated that he was older than Dumbledore himself, judging by the length of his beard) and his wife, both of whom were more than happy to hire Remus, even after learning of his condition. Remus's job was to catalog the books as they came, but the owner had assured him that, with some training, he would eventually be able to repair some of the damaged books as well. The pay was minimal, but it was more than enough for Remus.

As for Harriet, she found herself happier at Potter Manor than she ever had been at the Dursleys. Both of her parents cared attentively for her, making sure that she had all of the proper food, clothes, and even toys. They had gone on shopping trip the day after she had arrived,during which she had gotten plenty of new clothes, from shoes and socks to jeans skirts. Her father had wanted to take her to a place called "Diagon Alley," but Harriet's mum had suggested they wait until Harriet got settled in and her father agreed.

Harriet had yet to accept that the treatment was permanent and not just some elaborate trick, but her parents were patient, never getting angry with her when she did something wrong, such as ask questions. Nor did they get angry when she did something freaky (although it was one of the rules of the house that she was never to refer to herself or another wizard by that name again).When she had accidentally turned her father's knight into a brick while they were playing chess and it fell onto his finger, after the initial bout of swearing, punctuated by her mother's scolding (of him, not her!), her father had joined both Moony and Padfoot in laughter, while her mum waved her wand and transfigured the chess piece back to normal.

Magic was something else that Harriet was slowly getting used to. For the first few days at Potter Manor, her parents had tried to keep the magic to the minimum, letting her get used to the idea of being a witch, before they began showing her basic spells. Both of her parents had explained a bit more about magic, including some of the classes at Hogwarts, basic spells, means of transportation and communication, some basic wizarding etiquette, and (much to her mother's amusement) Quidditch. Her father had wanted to get her on a broom right away, but her mum convinced him that it would be better to wait until Hogwarts, where she could learn with the rest of her classmates, since first-years weren't allowed brooms, anyway.

Harriet had eventually stopped jumping every time somebody used magic, although she still couldn't get used to seeing somebody's head come out of her fireplace. Or using their new owl, Numair, to receive and deliver mail.

In all honesty, it was hard to get used to  _any_  aspect of her new life.

But things at Godric's Hollow were going well, until one day when Harriet's mum got a call from St. Mungo's.

"Is everything okay?" Harriet asked, looking up from her book (a biography detailing the lives of influential witches throughout history, it had been recommended by Remus, and Harriet found herself thoroughly enjoying it). Isaura, curled as usual around her ankle, hissed curiously.

"They need me at St. Mungo's," she sighed, passing her hand through her hair. "Apparently Cindy, who works the day shift, came down with a nasty cold and they can't find another replacement. The only problem is your father isn't back for another few hours."

Harriet looked down at her shoes. She hadn't meant to make things so difficult for her mother.

"Hey," her mother lifted Harriet's chin up with her finger. "It'll be okay. If I can't find anybody to watch you, I can just tell them no."

"You could leave me alone," pointed out Harriet. "Thats what the Dursleys did."

"I don't care what the Dursleys did," Lily informed her daughter, making her giggle. "I'm not going to leave you here on your own." She frowned for a minute, thinking, before snapping her fingers. "I know who might be free!"

* * *

**Severus Snape, Spinner's End-July 13, 1991**

Severus Snape stood hunched over the counter in his personal potions lab, carefully cutting up the ingredients for his next brew. This particular potion was delicate work, so he felt that his anger was justified when a small bell rang, signaling somebody calling him on the Floo, startling him, thus causing his finger to slip and for him to cut the piece of aconite far too short than what he needed.

Growling, he quickly wiped his hands before storming out the lab (although not slamming the door since that was never a good thing to do in a room full of delicate and highly volatile potions ingredients), ready to give the person on the other end of the Floo a piece of his mind.

"What?" he barked, as he approached, not bothering to see who it was.

"Severus," he blanched when he saw that it was Lily. "I've interrupted you brewing, I see." Snape attempted to apologize, but Lily wouldn't let him. "Its fine," she interrupted. "I know how testy you get when you are brewing. May I step through for minute, though?"

Resisting the urge to tell her that he did not get testy, he stepped aside and, a few seconds later, Lily Potter stood in front of him, brushing some soot off of her robes. She looked up at him and smiled, although her hair was a bit ruffled, as though she had run her hand through it a few times, worriedly.

"How are you?" she asked politely. He couldn't help but ponder that question. It had been awhile somebody had asked it of him.

"As well as could be expected," he informed her. "And yourself?"

"Fine," she assured him. "How is your potions work coming?

"I assume you didn't Floo here to make inquiries about my work," he remarked dryly, choosing not to tell her about the very difficult potion she had interrupted. Had it been anybody else, he would have railed at them for hours and taken the grudge to his grave, but with Lily, it didn't matter.

"No," Lily's expression turned sheepish. "I was hoping that you wouldn't mind doing me a favor?"

Snape's first reaction would be to agree immediately, but he forced it down. He was, after all, a Slytherin and it would be rather foolish of him to agree to something before he found what he was agreeing to.

"It depends on the favor," he replied smoothly, "but I will see what I can do."

"St. Mungo's just Floo called me," she began, "apparently they are short a healer."

"And they have asked you to fill in their position."

"Exactly." Lily nodded, tucking a wayward strand of her red hair behind her ear. "The only problem is that I can't leave Harriet home alone, but James, Sirius, and Remus are all working and won't be home for another few hours-"

"You are asking me to babysit?" he drawled. He didn't know whether or not he should be insulted.

"Not babysit," she protested. "Just watch her!" Personally, Snape didn't see the distinction, but nodded politely, as if he did. "I can't leave her home on her own!"

"She's eleven, Lily," retorted Snape, suddenly remembering how much he had missed bickering with Lily. He had yet to find a verbal sparring partner on par with her level. "I spent more than my fair share of days home alone at that age."

"Are you saying that Harriet should be brought up in the way you were?" Lily snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. Snape opened and closed his mouth, speechless for a moment, before settling on a scowl. As much as he disliked the Potter brat (no doubt she was as arrogant as her father was at her age), no child deserved the upbringing he did. Not even the spawn of his most hated enemy.

"Please, Sev!" continued Lily, when she saw that her once best friend was breaking down a bit. "Only for a few hours! I promise she won't be any trouble!"

Maybe it was the fact that Lily's words had brought up unwanted memories of his parents. Maybe it was her large, green eyes looking imploringly at him. But must likely it was the use of his old nickname. If she noticed the effect it had on him, she made no comment.

"Very well," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm brewing though, so don't expect me to entertain her."

"You won't even know she is here," Lily sighed, relieved. "Let me go get her."

Snape gave her his best glare, which she ignored, as she stepped calmly through the Floo. As he was pondering the power Lily's eyes had over him, the woman in question stepped through the Floo, her daughter in tow.

At Hogwarts, Snape had not gotten a very good look at the brat (he was too busy staring at Lily and glaring at the idiots who called themselves the Marauders), so he allowed himself the opportunity to do so now.

She was small, he noted, smaller than either of her parents had been at that age, and not just in height. It was clear she was woefully thin as well. She had inherited her father's hair (for this, Snape allowed himself to feel a bit of sympathy for the girl) and his...face, albeit more feminine. There were traces of Lily in the lips though, along with a bit in her nose and cheeks; and maybe a drop of it in her chin. Her eyes, though, were the most  _Lily_  part of her; just as green as her mother's.

Snape was brought out of his reverie by Lily introducing them to each other.

"Harriet," she began, "this is my friend, Professor Severus Snape. He works at Hogwarts remember?"

The girl nodded, looking up at him curiously. He met her gaze with a sneer, making her blush and look to her shoes.

"Hello, sir," she murmured, surprisingly shy. He had expected her to flout all authority by calling him by his first name, maybe even giving him a hard kick in the shins for good measure.

"Hello, Miss. Potter," he drawled, trying to keep his tone as civil as possible. It would do no good for him if he managed to make the brat cry within her first minute of knowing him. Lily kneeled next to her daughter.

"Severus is going to watch you while I go to work for a bit," she informed her daughter, who nodded. "Be good," she instructed. "He was working, so it was very nice of him to offer-" Severus snorted, at which Lily glared. He schooled his features back into their passive mask. "-to offer to watch you. Do as he says and read your book, okay."

"Yes, mum." Harriet nodded. Lily smiled and gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you."

Harriet beamed. "I love you, too!"

"I appreciate this," said Lily, after giving her daughter one last hug and walking over to him. Snape merely glared at her, annoyed at her having gotten him in this position. She laughed at him.

"Chin up, Sev! I know children aren't your strong suit, but who knows! You might get along." She gave her daughter, who hadn't moved from her spot, although was looking around the house curiously, a sidelong glance. "You have more in common than you think you do."

Before Snape could ask what that meant, Lily placed a kiss on his cheek, making him incapable of any coherent thought.

"Thank you," she told him, but before he could make any response, she was gone through the Floo.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Spinner's End-July 13, 1991**

Harriet stood in the middle of Professor Snape's living room, having just seen her mother disappear through the floo. She didn't quite know what to make of him, because, on one hand, he hadn't seemed very pleasant when she met him at Hogwarts. On the other hand, her mother wouldn't have left her here is she didn't like him.

"Well?" snapped Snape, making Harriet jump. She looked up at him. "Do you have something to keep you busy? Or will you be staring at the floor all day?"

Harriet couldn't tell if her was being sarcastic or not, but, judging by his expression, felt it would be prudent of her to answer.

"I have a book," she informed him, before adding, for good measure, "sir."

"Good," nodded the professor, before walking swiftly from the living room towards a door at the end of the hall, opening it to reveal stairs that lead downward into what looked like a basement. She had to yet to move from her spot, unsure if she should follow.

"Are you waiting for a personalized invitation?" asked Snape, rather bitingly. Harriet all but sprinted to the steps where he was waiting. She looked down at them hesitantly, as they were rather old looking, but nevertheless followed him down into the darkness, closing the door gently behind her.

When the duo finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Harriet found herself standing in one of the most interesting places she had ever seen. There were shelves stacked with different vials and bottles, large cupboards labeled with names such as  _Boomslang Skin_  and  _Bezoars_  were pushed against the wall. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the basement, though, were the several cauldrons in the room, bubbling and simmering, letting out different colored wisps of steam occasionally.

"You," Professor Snape drew her attention back to him, as he rolled up the sleeves of his black robes, "will sit in that chair," he gestured to a small chair in a corner of the room. "and read quietly, something that I am sure will be very difficult for you," he scowled as Harriet clambered obediently onto the chair. "Make one sound and I'll pickle you into six jars, understood?"

Harriet nodded once, wondering how serious he was about the threat. He turned and began to move about the room, taking things from one cupboard, throwing something else into another. Harriet did her best to focus on her book, but it was incredibly difficult to do so with Snape brewing a potion in front of her. It was taking all of her self control, honed from years of living with the Dursleys, not to ask him what he was making.

She had yet to get in trouble with her parents for asking them something, but she didn't think it would go down well with Snape. He was definitely not the nicest man Harriet had met, having already made several threats and insults towards her since she had been here, but for some reason she didn't find herself afraid of him. Despite the fact that he didn't seem to like her much, she didn't think he would hurt her in any way (her mother wouldn't have left her here if she thought he would).

His insults were actually a bit funny, Harriet mused, if you stopped to think about it. Not to mention that they were much more clever than the ones the Dursleys had concocted. If Harriet was going to be insulted by somebody, she decided, she rather the person have the decency to come up with an original insult, as opposed to using the same old material every time.

Once again, she found herself watching Snape curiously as he worked. Whatever he did, he did it quickly and efficiently, giving Harriet the impression that he had been doing this for a long time.

"Is there something interesting you, Potter?" Harriet's eyes widened, realizing that the professor had caught her staring.

"I was just-," she stuttered unsure of whether or not he was being serious or not.

"You were what?" he said impatiently.

"I was wondering what you were making," she finished in a rush.

"I am making a potion," he said briskly, adding something to his cauldron and stirring slowly, "or did it completely escape your notice that we were in a potions lab?"

"I've never been in a potions lab before, sir," Harriet pointed out, not unreasonably, she thought. Snape thought otherwise and frowned at her.

"And it is not easy to deduce your location by examining your surroundings?" Harriet looked at him and shrugged. "Don't shrug," he ordered, "if you have something to say, say it!"

"I suppose it isn't, sir," gulped Harriet, eyes wide. "But, in all honesty, the only experience I've had with potions were the ones Madam Pomfrey gave me a few weeks ago." Harriet cocked her head to the side. "They tasted like mud."

"Am I supposed to believe that you actually tasted mud, Potter?" Harriet couldn't help but blush. She supposed, when she put it like that, it did sound like a rather foolish thing to do.

"Not on purpose, sir," she said, quickly. "Dudley-thats my cousin-made me do it. I wouldn't have done it, but he threatened to sit on me and...well, he's about the size of a young killer whale, you see."

Snape looked as though he was resisting the urge to smirk, instead focusing on mixing the rest of the ingredients together. Harriet continued to watch him, not even bothering to hide her fascination. The professor gave an exasperated sigh.

"Get up here, Potter." Harriet jumped, before realizing what he had said, and hurrying up to where he was working. She looked into the cauldron and saw what looked to be a thick, green, sludge.

"That looks disgusting," Harriet wrinkled her nose. Snape gave her a pointed look.

"The aesthetics of a potion are unimportant, so long as it works."

"But that smells worse than Aunt Petunia's cooking!" Harriet defended. Snape allowed himself a snort this time.

"Your Aunt's cooking must have improved from since the last time I saw her, then." Harriet jerked her head, turning her eyes from the bubbling potion to Snape.

"You knew my Aunt Petunia?" Snape scowled. At first, Harriet thought he wasn't going to answer, but finally, he did.

"Yes," he reached for a cup of roots and poured it into the cauldron. "I grew up down the street from her."

"Thats how you know my mom." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. The three of us were friends for a while."

"But Aunt Petunia hate wizards!"

"This was before that," Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, giving Harriet the feeling that he really did not want to be talking about this particular subject. "and I was closer to your mother, anyways."

Harriet, against her better judgement, decided to risk asking another question.

"There was a time when Aunt Petunia didn't hate magic?" Snape didn't give an answer, but Harriet took that as a "Yes." Harriet recognized the warning signs of having taken something too far, but her curiosity overpowered her caution, a trait that often lead to nothing but trouble at the Dursleys'.

"What happened?"

"Enough questions," he snapped. He stirred in silence for a few minutes, Harriet trying to figure out what to say.

"Aunt Petunia never liked me much," she said, finally. "Uncle Vernon didn't, either." Snape said nothing. "They always used to tell me that I was a freak and that I needed "it" stamped out of me." Snape turned to meet her gaze, stopping his work for a moment.

"I never understood what "it" was," mused Harriet, making a sudden realization in the stuffiness of the potions lab. It was an odd place to haven an epiphany, for sure, but ten year olds weren't known to be picky about that sort of thing. "but, now, I'm pretty sure it was magic."

Once again, Snape didn't say anything, but she thought he saw his knuckles, clutching the stirring stick, whiten and his jaw clench. She watched him carefully as he reached and touched a small, round scar on the back of his hand, which Harriet thought looked a bit like a burn.

"I'm glad it didn't work." Harriet's decided. Snape looked down at her with his dark eyes as black as ever, evidently confused.

"You are glad  _what_  didn't work, Potter?"

"Stamping out the magic," she said it as if it was obvious, which it was, to her. "The Dursley's always thought that it was bad thing and that I should be ashamed of it, but they were wrong, weren't they?" She looked up at Professor Snape, anxiously. "I should be proud of it?"

"Yes, Potter," he said, his voice sounding odd, "You should be very proud of it." Then, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, he jerked his head, oily black hair swinging limply. "Hand me the aconite."

Harriet looked at him, unsure of which ingredient on the counter that was.

"The little, yellow, flower," Professor Snape sighed. Harriet took the small bundle of flowers and held them uncertainly. "Now put them in the cauldron," he told her slowly. "or does the fact that we are making a potion still elude you?"

Harriet blushed at her momentary lapse in intelligence and dropped the flowers into the cauldron. As Snape stirred the sludge slowly, the potion changed from a green sludge into a slightly more grey slime. It was still disgusting, but it looked a bit better.

"Wow," grinned Harriet. "Is making potions always this wicked?" Snape gave her an indecipherable look and raised an eyebrow at her.

"I may have misjudged you, Potter." Harriet looked at him curiously. "There may be hope for you, yet."

* * *

**James Potter, Potter Manor- July 13, 1991**

James Potter stepped into his living room after work, expecting the smell of his wife's delicious food and the sound of his daughter's delighted laughter. Instead, he was met with a deafening silence that told him that nobody was home. Confused, he walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, Prongs," called Sirius's voice, as he too stepped into the living room. "Where is everybody?"

"I don't know," he called back, as he reached the kitchen. Looking around, he saw a piece of parchment resting on the table and he recognized Lily's handwriting. He picked up the parchment.

_Dear James,_

_I got an urgent call from St. Mungo's saying that they urgently need my assistance. I'm sorry, but I had mo way of contacting you, or else I would have let you know._

_I had nobody to watch Harriet, but Severus agreed to watch her until you get back. I know you still don't trust him, but I assure you Harriet will be fine with him for a few hours and that he will take good care of her._

_When you do go to pick her up, REMEMBER WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT!_

_If you, Harriet, Sirius, or Remus get hungry before I get back, get take-out. We don't need to risk having you cook._

_All my love,_

_Lily_

James reread the letter, sure that he had somehow misinterpreted his wife's neat script. She left their daughter with  _Snape_? The  _Death Eater_? Sure, he conceded when she said to give the man a chance, but that did not mean he was comfortable leaving his daughter with him!

"Prongs?" asked Padfoot, walking into the house. "Where is everybody?"

"Lily was called into St. Mungo's," James ran a hand over his face. "She couldn't find anybody, so apparently she left Harriet with Snape."

"Snape?" Sirius questioned. "Are you sure?"

James handed him the note.

"I'm going to go pick her up," he sighed. "Wait here for Remus, would ya'? Maybe order some dinner for us?"

Sirius nodded. "Sure, mate. Whatever you need."

James walked back into the living room and grabbed some Floo powder. He grimaced. This was not going to be fun.

* * *

**Severus Snape, Spinner's End- July 13, 1991**

For the second time that day, Snape's brewing was disturbed by the sound of somebody in the Floo.

 _Probably Potter here to pick up his brat_ , the professor scowled, wiping off his hands. The brat in question was currently mixing the solution in one of his cauldrons; three stirs to the right, then four to the left, just as he had instructed. For the daughter of James Potter, Snape had noted early on that the girl had quite an aptitude for potions.

 _No doubt something she inherited from Lily,_ he mused. He snapped his fingers and she looked up.

"That was no doubt you're father, here to pick you up." The girl looked dejectedly at her uncompleted potion. "I'll finish brewing after you leave."

"Oh," she said, disappointed. "Okay." She obediently followed him up the stairs and into the living room, where, in the fireplace, her father's head was waiting patiently. Hearing them enter the room, his eyes turned to follow them.

"Snape," he said calmly. "May I enter?"

Snape gave a simple nod. He had not expected Potter to be so cordial. Lily had no doubt asked (read ordered) him to be on his best behavior around Snape. Potter disappeared for a moment, only to step through the Floo a few seconds later. He had barely had a minute to catch his balance when the girl launched herself at him.

"Dad!" she cried, running up to him and flinging her arms around him. He chuckled and scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Hello, Prongslette," he greeted cheerfully. "Miss me?" Harriet nodded.

"Yeah," she affirmed. "but I had lots of fun with Professor Snape!"

"Is that so?" he asked, shooting Snape a cautious look. Snape glared at him in return. Honestly! What had Potter expected? For him to use his daughter as a potion tester? Even he had enough morals not to use an innocent child as a guinea pig.  _A marauder on the other hand,_ he mused,  _now that idea had possibilities._

"He was teaching me how to make potions," the girl informed her father cheerfully. "He says I'm really good!"

Snape scowled. He had said no such thing! It seemed Potter was disbelieving, as well.

"He did?" he asked his daughter, doubtful.

"Actually," the brat admitted, "he said that I'm not nearly as dunderheaded as the other imbeciles he has to teach." Potter snorted.

"That sounds more like the Snape I knew." Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes, a habit he had picked up from the kids he taught. Despite the seven years they had gone to school together, and the amount of times Potter and his friends had taunted him, he doubted very much that Potter knew  _anything_  about him.

"But I think," the brat whispered to her father, although not quietly enough for Snape not to hear, "that coming from Professor Snape, thats like an "I love you."

If Snape could say anything good about Potter, it was that, in that moment, he really did try his best not to laugh. His best wasn't good enough, but he at least had the decency to disguise it as a cough.

"Well," he said, once he had calmed himself down. "Thank-you, Snape, for watching my daughter." Snape could detect no hint of a lie in Potter's face. Then again, the man could lie as well as some Death Eaters, if the occasion called for it. Snape once again nodded.

"Can I come back again?" the brat asked her father.

"I suppose," said Potter, carefully, eying him with distrust, "if Snape says its okay-"

"Please, Uncle Severus?" Not even Snape's years of spying were able to keep him from visibly blanching. Potter, too, was shocked and, for a moment, Snape actually thought he was going to drop his daughter. Snape was faster at regaining his composer than his school-boy rival, was, however.

"We'll see," he said smoothly. If he didn't promise the brat anything, he rationalized, he would not have any reason to babysit her next time.

"Alright," said Potter, awkwardly. "We need to get home, Prongslette. Its almost time for dinner."

The girl nodded sadly as she and her father stepped through the Floo, Potter making sure to maintain a firm hold on her.

"By, Uncle Sev!" She smiled, waving happily at him until and then, a few moments later, they were gone. Snape stood staring at the fireplace for a few seconds longer than he should have, before shaking his head rapidly, trying to clear it of his thoughts, and heading back downstairs to his lab.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- July 13, 1991**

Harriet sat at the dining room table, happily eating the chinese food ordered by her godfather. Her mother had arrived home just in time so now everybody (that is, her parents, Sirius, and Remus) were all eating their food and chatting idly about their day. Naturally, conversation soon turned to Harriet's day with Snape.

"It was great," Harriet said, brushing a strand of black hair away from her face. "Uncle Severus let me help him brew a potion."

"Uncle Severus?" Sirius demanded, sounded a bit startled. He shot a look to her father, who shrugged, helplessly.

"Yeah," confirmed Harriet. "At least, he didn't seem to have any problems with me calling him that earlier."

"Of course he didn't," her mum said, an odd note to her voice. Looking up from her plate, Harriet saw an odd glint in her eyes. It wasn't unlike the proud look that Aunt Petunia got every time she saw her "Precious popkin."

"Do you think I could go back again?" she asked.

"You mean you  _want_  to spend more time with Snivel-" Sirius was cut short by a loud bang underneath the table. "I mean," he gasped, sounding as though somebody had kicked him hard in the shin, "Snape?"

Sirius glared at Harriet's mum, but she smiled at him, looking completely innocent.

"Why wouldn't I?" Harriet asked, genuinely confused. Was there something that she didn't know? "He was nice. Plus," she added, after thinking for a second, "his insults were really funny."

"He insulted you?" her father asked sharply, eying her from across the table. Harriet was surprised at his sudden attention.

"Sometimes," she said carefully, before adding trying to reassure him, "but he didn't mean it! I know he didn't!"

"How do you know, love?" asked mum softly. Harriet ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit she had picked up a few years ago.

"He didn't say it them same way the Dursleys did."

An awkward silence filled the table. There was nothing but the sound of silverware scraping across the plates, followed by the sound of chewing, and maybe somebody taking a sip of water. Harriet glanced around the table, feeling a bit guilty. For some reason, her parents didn't really like her talking about the Dursleys. She wasn't too sure why, but they always got angry whenever she brought them up. She decided to move the subject into safer waters.

"So can I go see Uncle Severus again?" She bit her lip, hesitantly. "Dad said I could, if its okay with Uncle Severus."

"Your dad is right," nodded her mother approvingly, her eyes lightening up considerably. She even smiled a bit. "If Severus says its okay, I don't see any problem with it at all."

"Did you ask him?" asked Sirus, curiously, as he added some soy sauce to his noodles far too casually.

"Yes," said Harriet glumly. "He didn't really say "yes.""

"But he didn't say "no," either," pointed out her father, seeing her slightly depressed expression. She perked up a bit, ignoring the tenseness of her father's posture.

"Thats right!" Harriet went back to chewing her food, seemingly in great though, for a moment. Her eyes had the same look that her mother's eyes got, when she was thinking carefully about something (not that Harriet realized this).

"Could we invite him to dinner?" Harriet wondered aloud, a few minutes later. Remus, in an attempt to calm his friends (and himself) down, had just been telling a rather interesting story about his and his boss's work on their newest acquisition, a small book that spit water at you anytime you tried to open it, ("You should have seen the poor man who brought it in," he joked, he was soaking wet). He stopped mid-sentence.

Harriet realized that she had interrupted. She paled. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Its alright, Prongslette. Apology accepted." Harriet let out a sigh of relief. Remus used her nickname less so than the others at the table (except for her mother, who never used it, preferring to call her "love"), so Harriet knew he wasn't mad at her.

"Did you mean Severus, love?" her mum asked her, refocusing her attention. Harriet looked at her for a moment, trying to regain her train of thought.

"Oh, yeah," she blushed, finally remembering. "I thought that it would be a nice thing to do. You know, as a way to thank Uncle Severus for watching me. Especially since he was really busy today"

"Thats not a bad idea," Remus said, sounding surprised. He stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. "Did you come up with it all on your own?"

Harriet shrugged.

"At the Dursleys'," she said," Uncle Vernon always used to have people over for business, usually when he was trying to land a big deal at Grunnings."

"Sounds boring," Sirius made a face, making Harriet laugh. She nodded enthusiastically, in complete agreement with her godfather.

"Thankfully," she said, "the Dursleys didn't like me to be there. They'd lock me in my cupboard, because they were worried about what their friends would think if the saw me." Harriet took a moment to take a sip of her juice, not noticing the dark looks her parents exchanged.

"I was almost always blamed when Uncle Vernon didn't make the deal, but, personally," said Harriet conversationally, "I think it was because his potential clients just want to have to listen to Uncle Vernon's jokes anymore." Harriet made a face.

"Be glad that you never heard him tell the joke about the Japanese golfer."

* * *

**Severus Snape, Spinner's End- July 15, 1991**

A few days after the brat's visit, during which he was plagued by an onslaught of memories from his childhood, Snape received a letter during breakfast, delivered by a large, tawny colored owl, which he had never seen before. Carefully taking the parchment from the owl's foot, he unfurled it, almost choking on his tea when he saw who it was from.

_Sev,_

_I don't know what you did, but you made quite an impression on Harriet. She seems to talk of nothing else but brewing a potion with her "Uncle Severus."_

_She has asked me to invite you to dinner with us, in a few days time. Don't worry! James, Sirius, and Remus all promise to be on their best behavior._

_You have my word._

_Send an answer soon,_

_Lily_

Snape snarled. The last thing he wanted to do was spend an evening with that family. But, completely unbidden, he had a vision of the brat's green eyes filled with tears...Lily's green eyes. He slammed his chair into placed and slapped the letter on the table. The potions fumes were getting to his head. A few hours with a good book were all he needed.

 _Potter's book._ He mentally face palmed. In all her excitement, the forgetful idiot had left her book here. No doubt, she would remember eventually and want to get it back. He'd have to see her soon or later.

 _Might as well get it over with_ , he decided reluctantly.

Sitting back down, he summoned a quill and some parchment. He began penning his reply to Lily.

_Dear Lily,_

_I would be happy_ (as he wrote this, he had to force his food back down. No doubt vomit on parchment was a large indicator of the insincerity of one's letter)  _to join you and your family for dinner..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- July 25, 1991**

Harriet woke up to the warmth of the sun shining on her face. Blearily opening her eyes, she realized that, in her exhaustion from the previous night, she had forgotten to close the curtains in her room. She didn't get up at first, as the light streaming in from the window showed it to be relatively early, deciding instead to mull over the events of the previous night.

Uncle Severus (as she had christened him) had finally joined them for dinner. Harriet's mother had prepared some of the most delicious corned-beef Harriet had ever eaten, apparently from an old family recipe. Harriet had offered to help, but her mother had politely declined, instead sending her off to set the table, a task she had completed in a few minutes. She had spent the rest of the evening passing the time until his arrival with Sirius and her father teaching her how to play gobstones.

Harriet hadn't been sure of how the dinner was going to go, but even her most wild predictions could have guessed how it turned out. Her father and Sirius spent half the night glaring at Snape, who did his best to glare back. They tossed around insults so casually that Harriet lost count of the number of times Lily kicked Severus under the table. She didn't even want to think about how black and blue her father's and Sirius's shins had to be (courtesy, instead, of Remus).

Finally, after the last course had been served, Harriet's mother decided to take action. Giving Remus a pointed look, she had gotten up from the table and held her hand out to her slightly confused daughter.

"Come with me to the kitchen, Harriet," she had said, "I need some help with the dessert." Harriet, realizing that her mother had more in mind than just frosting the cake, dutifully followed her into the kitchen. As the mother-daughter duo placed the finishing touches on the vanilla-strawberry chocolate cake, Harriet heard, coming from the dining room, yelling. Obviously unsettled, her mother had told her not to worry about it. There were a few crashes, then silence.

When Harriet and her mother had entered the dining room again, Snape, Sirius, and her father were all sitting at their original locations at the table, although their hair looked slightly messy (well, her father's looked as it normally did) and the collar of Sirius's shirt was upturned. Remus was as calm as ever, cheerfully complimenting both Harriet and her mother on the delicious looking cake.

She never did learn what had been said between the group that night, but, although the tension was still thick in the air, Sirius, her father, and Uncle Severus were all on their best behavior, not one more insult leaving their lips.

"Harriet?" A quiet voice in broke into her thoughts, and Harriet looked towards her door to see her father waiting outside the door, hair still damp from his shower. When he saw that she was awake, he walked into the room and she scooted over to make room for him.

"What are you doing up so early, Prongslette?" he asked her, sitting gently on the edge of the bed.

"Forgot to close the blinds," she mumbled, still a bit drowsy. Her father nodded, obviously pleased. Harriet assumed it was because she had not been attempting to get up early before her parents to try and make breakfast, a habit she had acquired at the Dursley's and was still having trouble breaking.

"Well," he said, stroking her hair, definitely not helping her get out of bed, "your mother and I were talking and we were wondering if you wanted to go to Diagon Alley today."

 _That_  definitely woke Harriet up. Her parents had told her about Diagon Alley, and it would be a lie for her to say that she wasn't eager to see it in person. Her father, seeing her excitement, laughed.

"Really?" she moved to sit up more fully in bed.

"Yes," her father chuckled. "Its time for us to go get your Hogwarts things. You'll be going in a little over a month." His smile grew a bit sad here. "You need to get robes, books, supplies, a wand..." he trailed off, making a mental list. Harriet, however, focused on that last item.

 _A wand_.

The one thing she had been looking more forward to than anything else since she had learned she was a witch. She hadn't really known how she was going to get a wand, but her mother had explained that the wand was purchased by the witch or wizard from a wandmaker, in her case, Ollivander, and that each wand was unique to the person.

Harriet couldn't wait.

Her father left her room to allow her to get ready, which she did in a hurry. She descended the stairs two at a time, almost tripping over the last step, and skidded into the kitchen. Regaining her balance, she walked happily over to the kitchen table, where her mother had placed a huge breakfast, pointedly ignoring her father's sniggers.

"When are we leaving?" she asked, almost as soon as she sat down. Her mother tried to force back a smile.

"As soon as you finish breakfast," her mum said firmly. Harriet took a huge bite of toast and swallowed, followed by a large gulp of orange juice.

"Done!" she announced, jumping up from her seat. Her father wrapped his arms firmly around her, though, and pulled her back onto the chair before she could get far.

"Not so fast," he laughed, "I think your mother meant a  _real_  breakfast." He shoved the still full plate at her. "Eat!"

She gave him a sour look, making him laugh once again because it held no real malice, before settling down and properly eating her breakfast, which was delicious, as always.

"Are Moony and Padfoot coming?" inquired Harriet, as she worked her way through a large stack of blueberry pancakes.

"No, Prongslette," said her father. Harriet's face fell. "They're really sorry, but Sirius really needed to clean out his house and Remus offered to help him. They know you will have a fantastic time, though!"

"Sirius has a house?" Harriet stopped cutting up her pancake, looking at her father expectantly.

"In London," he informed her. "It was left to him by default, since he was the last remaining member of his family. He hasn't been there in ages, though, so he wanted to go see if it was still inhabitable."

Harriet nodded, accepting the explanation, and finally managed to finish off the last of her pancakes. She let out a satisfied sigh and sat back in her chair.

"Honestly," laughed her mother, "how you manage to eat as much as your father at your size, I'll never know!"

"Its your fault," retorted Harriet, blushing. "Your food is too good!" Her mother laughed, removing both of their plates from the table with a flick of her wand, and her father ruffled her hair.

"Give us a few minutes," her mother instructed, "and go put on your shoes. Then we can get going."

Harriet raced off to do as they instructed, finally meeting her parents at fireplace. They were going to travel by Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, a famous inn and pub on Charring Cross Road in London, and from there, they would go to Diagon Alley. Neither one of Harriet's would tell her how they would get to Diagon Alley from there, but both got very sly smiles on their faces whenever Harriet brought it up.

Her mother and father walked downstairs. The few minutes had felt like a lifetime to Harriet, who was unbelievably excited, especially after all of the stories she had heard about Diagon Alley.

"Alright, Harriet," Lily began, "do you have your Hogwarts list?"

Harriet showed the piece of parchment to her mother, before taking it back and scanning over the list of ingredients for the umpteenth time that morning.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set of glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope set_

_1 brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

_"_ Are you sure we can find all this?" Harriet asked uncertainly. It seemed pretty unlikely that Wizards would be able to hide an entire shopping district from Muggles, even in a place as large and busy as London.

"If you know where to look," promised her father. "Now, Prongslette, your mother and I were thinking that, if you're up to it, you could Floo on your own this time."

"By myself?" Harriet gulped, looking at the fireplace, which was suddenly looking much more ominous to her than it had a few seconds ago.

"Only if you're ready, love," her mother assured her. Harriet bit her lip. "I'll be waiting on the other side for you to come through, if that makes you feel any better," offered her mother. Harriet cast the fireplace one more anxious look, before setting her jaw and nodding determinedly.

"Alright, then," smiled her father. Her mother took some of the Floo powder and was off with a shout of "Diagon Alley!" Harriet shifted and her father, noticing, gave her a careful look.

"Its alright if you don't want to do this, Prongslette," he promised, glasses shining in the remaining light of the fireplace. "Nobody would blame you. You've only known about the wizarding world for a few months."

Harriet shook her head. She was now determined to do this. It was only the Floo, after all. She had seen it done enough times to know that it was hardly rocket science. Her father gave her one more searching glance, then offered her the small bowl of Floo powder. Gently, she took a handful of it and threw it into the fireplace. The light blazed bright green.

"Make sure to say the name clearly and loudly," her father reminded her. "Keep your elbows tucked in. You'll be fine."

Harriet stepped into the fire and felt the familiar tickling sensation. She took a deep breathe and began to speak.

"Diago-" There was too much soot in the fireplace; Harriet immediately swallowed ash upon entering the warm fireplace. Hard as she tried, she couldn't stop the cough that tore through her throat.

James watched horrified as his daughter vanished to an unknown location. He hastily grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. The dead terror formed a tight ball in his stomach and, as entered the Floo, he prayed to God that he would find both his wife and his daughter safe and sound on the other side.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Knockturn Alley- July 25, 1991**

Harriet hated the feeling of Flooing- the spinning and whirling and falling. The roar in her ears blocked out all other sounds the green flames in front of her eyes blinded her —and this time she didn't even have her parents to hold onto. When she managed to see through the fire, she occasionally caught glimpses of other fireplaces and the rooms beyond them, but she closed her eyes after a few minutes, the nausea becoming to overwhelming.

She fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of her glasses snap.

_Wonderful._

Harriet was still dizzy and was also fairly certain more of her was bruised than not. She got up and dusted off some of the soot. She had to hold her broken glasses to her eyes, but she was able to see that she was quite alone in a dark and dim shop.

 _I won't find the Hogwarts items here,_ she thought to herself.

She could see a severed hand in a glass case, a deck of cards covered in what looked like blood, and a glass eye that seemed to follow her as she moved. Through the dusty window, and under the watchful eyes of several scary looking masks settled on rusty spikes, Harriet could see a dark and narrow corridor- nothing like her parents' descriptions of Diagon Alley.

Harriet knew she had to get out of the shop as soon as possible, so she made her way quickly to the door. A little bell above the door rang, though, forcing her to duck behind a shelf as a customer entered. She managed to duck inside a large, black cabinet to her left. Her nerves were growing worse by the minute as she peered through her broken glasses into a crack in the cabinet door.

She saw a pale man and an even paler boy enter the shop. The man had white-blonde hair that hung to his shoulders, framing his pointy face, and he was immaculately dressed. He held himself with his nose turned up, as if he had smelt something fowl in the air (Harriet couldn't help but agree with him there). Harriet had a feeling that this man was not somebody to be trifled with.

The boy looked remarkably similar, with his pale hair cut much shorter and his face just as pointy.

 _Father and son,_ Harriet decided.

The man seemed to have a particular reason for entering the shop, since he strode confidently to the front of the store and hit the little bell on the counter. Despite his brisk actions, there was a part of him that seemed nervous. He kept shooting glances over his shoulder and out the window, as if at any moment expecting police to come barging into the room to arrest him.

 _Well,_ Harriet mentally corrected herself, just as a stoop-shouldered greasy haired man walked up from behind the counter,  _I suppose it would be a team of Aurors, not the police, who would arrest him._

"Mr. Malfoy," purred the greasy haired man in a voice as oily as his hair, "a pleasure to see you again! And little Master Draco! What a pleasure, having you both in my shop."

"Draco is currently buying the things he needs for Hogwarts," said the man- Mr. Malfoy- bluntly. He clearly wanted nothing to do with the shopkeeper's pleasantries. The oily-haired man didn't seem to notice.

"Oh," he said, "that is right! You would be about eleven now, wouldn't you, Master Draco?"

"Yes," snapped Mr. Malfoy, "as I said, he is starting Hogwarts this year, Mr. Borgin"

"Well," offered Mr. Borgin, "perhaps he would be interested in a Hand of Glory as a congratulatory gift? Best friend to thieves and plunderers! Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder-"

"I do hope that my son amounts to more than just a thieve or plunderer." Mr. Malfoy was looking more displeased by the minute.

"Of course! Of course he will!" Mr. Borgin said, tripping over his words. "I never meant no disrespect!"

"Enough," Mr. Malfoy barked as his son's lip curled into a sneer. "I am not here to buy. I am here to sell."

"Sell?" repeated Mr. Borgin a bit stupidly. He was clearly disappointed.

"Yes," agreed Mr. Malfoy. "With the return of the Potters and the release of Black from Azkaban Prison, the Ministry has been conducting more raids, lately. As it happens, I have some items with me that would be incredibly...incriminating, if they were to be found in my possession."

Harriet frowned. Several days after having been taken from the Dursleys' home, her parents had sat her down and explained, more fully, what had happened the night Voldemort had come to their house. Specifically, Sirius's role in it, and how he had been framed for betraying them to Voldemort, thus spending nine years in prison for a murder he did not commit.

However, she didn't understand the rest of Malfoy's statement- what items? What raids? She made a note to ask her parents later.

"I heard about those," nodded Mr. Borgin. "The Ministry needs to stop sticking their nose where it doesn't belong," Mr. Borgin commented, obviously trying to get on the Malfoys' good sides. Draco snorted, seemingly bored, and began to wander around the shop. "Pure wizard blood is counting less and less, these days."

"Not with me," said Malfoy cooly.

"Nor me," Mr. Borgin said hastily. Harriet couldn't help but feel a bit bad for him- he was clearly in over his head with the Malfoys.

"If we could get onto business," began Mr. Malfoy, placing his box on the counter. Harriet eagerly tried to get a peak inside (more to tell her parents), but never got a good look. Malfoy's son, Draco, stepped in front of her, blocking her view. He was much too close to Harriet's cupboard for comfort, and she found herself hoping with everything she had that he would not decide to look inside.

Apparently hope was not enough. Harriet panicked just a bit as Draco decided that,  _yes,_ the cupboard was indeed interesting. He moved closer and closer... He grabbed the handle of the cupboard-  _Oh god-_ and twisted it-

_WHAM!_

Mr. Malfoy's cane came down hard on the side of the cupboard, near the handle, forcing Draco to jump backwards. Harriet's eyes watered up from the loud noise that was now ringing in her ears.

"What did I say before we got here, Draco?" Mr. Malfoy asked smoothly. "Touch nothing."

"Sorry, father," said Draco. His tone reminded Harriet of Dudley's apologies, though, in that it held no sincerity at all. He gave at the cupboard another wistful look, and Harriet held her breath. His father grabbed him by the arm and pulled her away, out of Harriet's sight. A few seconds later, Harriet heard the small bell ring, signifying that they had left the shop.

She heard Mr. Borgin mumbling to himself.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy," he complained, "Whatever you'd like Mr. Malfoy. Git. Honestly, what I should have said to him-"

Harriet never did hear what Mr. Borgin should have said, because he moved to the back room of the shop, giving Harriet her chance to escape. After waiting a moment to see if he would come back, Harriet slipped out of the cabinet and out of the shop door.

She could immediately she that she wasn't in Diagon Alley, as she had suspected. The alley she was in was dark and gloomy, straight out of one of Dudley's horror movies. Borgin and Burkes was apparently the name of the shop she had just left, and it seemed to be the biggest of the lot. The store across the way seemed just as nasty thought: shrunken heads were displayed in the window. The store next to it held a large cave alive with gigantic black spiders.

Feeling reasonably jumpy, she tried to hold her glasses on straight as she set off quickly, hoping to find her parents (or anybody remotely decent looking) soon. It only took her a minute to realize that she wasn't getting anywhere, though. She knew she had coughed when using the Floo, meaning she could've been anywhere. She just hoped she wasn't too far away from her parents...

"Lost, dearie?" a raspy voice spoke into her ear, making her jump. An old wizard had come up behind her without her noticing. He held a tray of what looked like human fingers and was watching her hungrily.

Harriet shook her head rapidly. She was trying to not look as scared as she really was, but knew she was failing miserably (she had never been a good liar). The wizard just smiled wider at her.

"I'm fine," she gasped, ignoring how shaky her voice was, "honest."

The wizard made to grab her wrist, but Harriet was able to duck away. All of those "games" with Dudley had been good for something, she supposed.

"I really need to be going-" she muttered.

"OI!" A booming yell cut across the alley "What'd yeh think yer doing to 'er? Leave the poor girl alone!" The old wizard cursed and darted away, leaving Harriet alone again. Harriet searched the alley for her savior, finding it in the hulking form of the largest man she had ever seen.

"Get over 'ere!" the giant called to her, waving her to come with his massive arm. Harriet hesitated for only a moment before following. In the grand scheme of things, the giant seemed like a much safer bet than the alley. He didn't let her say anything, though, and instead grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and pulling her along. The alleyway twisted and turned sharply in some places. Harriet knew she never would've gotten out without help.

Eventually, Harriet found herself blinking in bright sunlight.

Harriet blinked, but before she could see where they were, the giant man had stepped in front of her, arms crossed, looking down at her with eyes glinting like black beetles. Now that they were in the sun, she had a better look at him. His face was covered by a shaggy black beard and a tangled mane of hair. They almost hid the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. He wore an enormous overcoat, and Harriet just managed to notice him tucking a small, grubby package into his pocket.

"What'd yeh think yer were doing? Skulkin' 'round Knockturn Alley, eh?" He growled. Harriet, still slightly panicked from what had happened, could do nothing more than stammer.

"Sorry! Floo powder- coughed- I got lost- first time..."

"Got lost on yer first time Flooin' alone, did yer?" Harriet nodded as the giant's face softened.

"Well, don't yeh worry too much 'bout it. Happens ter everybody at one point er 'nother." He looked down at her, once again, before smiling and beginning to brush the soot and dirt off her. He didn't seem to know his own strength, however, and almost forced her down in the process. She would most definitely have a few more bruises to add to the experience.

"So," he said, continuing to brush off the soot. "What's yer name?"

"Harriet," she gasped, slightly winded, as the giant finally finished. "Harriet Potter."

"Well o' course yeh are!" He smiled even more widely at her, the corners of his eyes wrinkling up. "Don' know why I didn't recognize yeh e'fore! Course, I 'aven't seen yeh since ye were a baby, Harriet, and no bigger that a loaf o' bread, ter boot!" He gave her a curious look. "I don' suppose yeh 'member me?"

Harriet shook her head shyly. He didn't seem to mind though, instead, he just smiled some more at her.

"Rubeus Hagrid," he introduced himself. "Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts!"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Hagrid," she said politely. He waved a giant hand.

"None o' this "mister" stuff," he ordered, "makes me feel old. Just call me Hagrid." He looked over his shoulder and scanned the people behind him. "Now where 're yer parents, Harriet. I 'spect yeh was to meet them somewhere 'round 'ere?"

"Yes," she said, "We were supposed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, but I got lost using the Floo."

"Bet they're worried sick 'bout yeh," Hagrid nodded. "Good people, yer parents. 'aven't seen them in ages though. Be good to catch up with 'em." He patted her shoulder, almost knocking her over again. "Don't worry. I'll get yeh ter 'em, soon 'nough."

She bit her lip. "I'm not too far away, am I? From Diagon Alley, I mean?"

He laughed. "No," he chuckled, "not too far off." Seeing Harriet's confused expression, he stepped to the side, giving her her first view of what was behind him.

"Welcome, Harriet, ter Diagon Alley!"

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Diagon Alley-July 25, 1991**

Harriet gasped, because she had never seen anything like it before. There were shops selling all sorts of thing: eels eyes, spell books, quills, parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...

Hagrid and Harriet were standing next to a large, snowy white building that towered over the rest. She craned her neck to try and get a view of the rest of the building. When he saw Harriet looking at it curiously, he explained for her.

"Gringotts," Hagrid told her leading her away, "the wizards' bank. Yeh'll pro'lly come back 'ere later with yer parents. I just finished some business there, meself. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him, like gettin' things from Gringotts — knows he can trust me, see." Hagrid turned and placed a hand on her shoulder, steering her forward. "Anywho, we gotteh get yeh ter the Leaky Cauldron!"

She found herself constantly distracted as they walked. They passed a shop called Eyelops Owl emporium, filled with soft, hooting owls. She saw several boys her own age with their noses pressed against a shop window, talking about some new broomstick (the Nimbus Two Thousand, they said). A plump, red-haired woman passed her in the street, muttering "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

When they found themselves in front of a brick wall, Harriet was surprised and a bit disappointed. After everything they had seen, she had been expecting something a bit more spectacular. Still, she waited patiently as Hagrid fished a pink umbrella out of his pocket and told her to stand back.

"Three up… two across…" he muttered.

He tapped the wall three times at various places with the point of his umbrella and Harriet's jaw dropped as he the bricks he touched began to move. A small hole suddenly appeared in the middle- then grew bigger and bigger. Within seconds, they found themselves standing in front of an archway, leading into what looked like a tiny and grubby pub.

"Be grateful if yeh don't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes as he put away his umbrella. "I'm — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin', 'cept fer special circumstances, like this one, with me 'elping you find yer parents, an' all."

Harriet nodded, and Hagrid lead her through the archway and into the pub. Everybody there seemed to know Hagrid as the buzz of chatter stopped. Several people waved at them.

"The usual, Hagrid?" The bartender grinned, reaching behind him for a glass.

"Can't, Tom," Hagrid refused. The bartender raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Need ter help Harriet 'ere find 'er parents."

What little chatter that was left came to a standstill. The bartender looked as though he were about to fall over.

"Bless my soul. It's Harriet Potter!"

Harriet didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at her. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harriet found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Ms. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Ms. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand — I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Ms. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harriet, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harriet's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell. Harriet wondered how this man could teach Dark Arts when he looked frightened at the very thought of it.

"N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself."

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harriet to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid finally had to shout to make himself heard.

"A'wright!" He boomed over the crowd! "That's 'nough! Gotta find Harriet's parents, now! So be off, the lot o' yeh!"

After giving one last smile to Dedalus Diggle, Harriet was lead through the main room into a smaller, much more quiet and empty, one. The room was no less dingy, but instead of tables and chairs, it was empty, save for several fireplaces against the wall. Standing calmy in a corner was a tall, dark skinned, bald wizard. It took Harriet a moment to realize who he was talking to.

"Mum," she gasped, as soon as she realized, "Dad!" She broke free from Hagrid and rushed towards them, just as they turned their heads to look at her.

"Harriet," sighed her mother in relief, wrapping her arms firmly around her in a tight hug. "We were so worried!"

"Are you alright, Prongslette?" she felt her father place a gentle hand on her back, rubbing it in a soothing motion. Harriet nodded against her mother's robes. "We were scared sick."

"I'm sorry," Harriet grimaced, looking up at both her parents, although their faces were incredibly blurry do to the fact that her glasses were still in her hand. Her father, realizing that she wasn't wearing her glasses, brought it up. Harriet sheepishly held them out. Her mother took them from her.

" _Occulis repairo,"_  she said firmly and, before Harriet's nearly blind eyes, the glasses were as good as new. Her mum carefully placed them back on Harriet's face, and she blinked as everything came into a much sharper focus.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"Harriet," said her father, suddenly realizing something, "this is Kingsley Shacklebolt." The bald wizard in question held out his hand to Harriet, who shook it firmly in return. "He's an Auror who works with me at the Ministry."

"Yes," his voice was deep and slow, giving Harriet the odd impression of somebody she could immediately trust. She couldn't quite place his accent, though. "Auror's don't usually handle missing children's cases, unless they belong to somebody who works at the department." He smiled at her, revealing a row of impossibly white teeth.

"The fact that you are  _Harriet Potter_  doesn't exactly hurt much," he winked at her, showing that he was joking, before turning to her parents, giving Harriet a glimpse of the earring in his right ear.

"I am glad that everything worked out well," he told them. "I must return to the Ministry and file a report." Lily smiled at him.

"Thank you for coming," she said sincerely, green eyes shining, placing a hand over his, "You have no idea how much we appreciate it."

Kingsley and her father shook hands as he, too, gave his thanks. Kingsley turned once more to Harriet.

"Its been a pleasure, Harriet. I hope you have a fantastic time at Hogwarts!" He ruffled her hair, something people tended to do a lot, Harriet noticed; he waved a cheery goodbye to Hagrid, who had been watching from the doorway, where he was also preventing anybody from entering the room, before hopping into the Floo and heading back to work.

"Are you sure you are alright, love?" her mother asked her anxiously, looking down at her. Harriet nodded, wanting to ease her mum's worries.

"I'm fine, mum! Honest!" she added, when it seemed her mother didn't believe her. "Hagrid helped me!" Both her parents looked up at the giant in question, having not seen him before and just realizing his presence.

"Hagrid!" exclaimed her father, surprised. "Its been far too long!" Hagrid walked up to them and wrapped them both in a tight hug, not even giving them a chance to protest as they were scooped up by the giant of a man. Harriet watched bemusedly from the side as both her mother and father were almost crushed by him.

"Lily! James!" he sniffed, letting them go rather unceremoniously. They straightened themselves up while Hagrid dug around his coat, eventually pulling out large handkerchief. "It's been to long! I was worried 'bout yer! Thought ye'd never wake up!" He blew his nose and sniffed, looking highly miserable all of a sudden.

"Yes, well," said Harriet's mum, trying to calm down the sobbing gamekeeper, "we are both absolutely fine." She patted his back until he finally settled down and gave the three of them a small grin.

"Thank you," said her father, before Hagrid could begin crying again, "for looking after Harriet, for us."

Hagrid shrugged his large shoulders.

"It was my pleasure," he said firmly. " 'Sides, couldn't let a little girl go wanderin' 'round Knockturn Alley, now, could I?"

"No," her mum said softly shooting her another worried glance at the name of where Harriet had been. "I don't suppose you could."

"We need to get going," her father sighed, checking his watch, looking a bit disappointed that he wouldn't be able to catch up with another old friend. "We have to get Harriet's Hogwarts supplies."

"Thats right!" Hagrid exclaimed, snapping his fingers, "Yer startin' Hogwarts this year! An' yer birthday's comin' up soon, too?"

"Next week," Harriet offered. Hagrid nodded, looking deep in thought. He looked down at her through his great tangle of hair.

"I'll 'ave to get yer a present," Harriet went to protest, but he wouldn't let her. "Goin' ter be to busy gettin' Hogwarts set up next week, so I guess I'll 'ave to give it ter yeh a few days early." He chuckled. "Don' think yeh'd mind that too much, though."

"You really don't have to-" she argued, but, again, he shot her down, telling her that he'd meet up with them later, once he'd found her something. He left Harriet and her parents, whistling merrily as he walked. She turned back to her parents, who were conversing quietly about where they needed to go first.

In the end, Gringotts was decided to be there first destination. They took the same path that Harriet took to get there from Knockturn Alley with Hagrid, but the sights were no less amazing to Harriet, who was constantly whipping her head around and turning to walk backwards just so she could try and see as much as she could. Her parents explained some of the more odd sights and, by the time they reached Gringotts, Harriet's head felt as though it was about to burst with the newfound information.

Once, again, Harriet found herself near the imposing white building, but, this time, she noticed something she had not previously seen. Standing by the door, wearing a scarlet and gold uniform, was a little creature about a head shorter than she was. It seemed to be stuck somewhere in classification between a human and an animal. It had wrinkled skin with a shrewd face and pointy news. It's hands ended in long, thin fingers, it's nails sharp. Despite that, it seemed surprisingly nimble.

"Yes, love," said her mother softly to her unspoken question. Harriet looked up at her, their identical green eyes meeting. "thats a goblin."

"Tricky little creatures," noted James, "and very sharp, too." He gave her a warning look. "You never want to mess with a goblin, Harriet. Its not a very good idea."

Harriet nodded, taking the information to heart, as they walked up the stone steps to the door. The goblin bowed as they entered, the end of its little beard almost touching the tips of his large shoes. Harriet watched as he straightened back up, coloring a bit when he caught her staring. His mouth merely twisted upward in an odd smirk as he went to bow to the next wizard entering the bank.

Harriet and her parents found themselves staring at another set of doors, these silver, with words engraved carefully on them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Well," muttered Harriet, face pulling into a slightly thoughtful frown, "thats cheerful." Her father, hearing her, snorted.

"Well, goblins are very protective of their treasure," he said, still amused, "you'd be mad to try and rob Gringotts. Its probably the safest place in the world, aside from Hogwarts."

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "But technically," she pointed out, "the treasure isn't theirs!"

"Semantics to goblins, Harriet." James frowned. "They see things a lot differently than we do. To them, they've been entrusted the treasure to guard, so its theirs. At least, until the proper owner takes it back."

"Why do they think like that?" asked Harriet curiously, but her father didn't have an answer for her right away. The three stared at the door for a moment, only to be interrupted by another wizard, who was obviously impatient to go through.

"Sorry," Harriet offered, as they stepped to the side for him. He gave no answer, simply an annoyed huff, and stomped into the bank, the doors opened by two more goblins on the inside (how they knew when somebody wanted to enter was lost on Harriet, but she assumed it was some type of magic). Harriet got a brief glimpse of the opulent interior of the bank right before the door slammed in their faces. Again, they stood in silence, Harriet waiting patiently for her parents to digest her question.

"I'm not sure." Her father finally shrugged. "Some people think they're just too stupid to recognize what does and doesn't belong to them." He said this in a tone that clearly showed Harriet that he was not one of those people.

"They seem to smart for that," Harriet protested quietly, still staring up at the words on the door. They had been engrossed in their discussion, so had not yet entered the bank. Her mum smiled down at her.

"They are incredibly intelligent, love." She gave a wistful smile, a far off look in her eye. "They know things that we can only dream of."

Harriet cocked her head at her mothers look. Her mother, she had learned, had been a bit of a bookworm at Hogwarts, learning anything she could about everything that she could, and it seemed that this attitude still remained with her, even in adulthood.

"A lot of wizards," her father began slowly, "think that they're superior to muggles, magical creatures-even other wizards."

"Pure wizard blood is counting for less and less these days." quoted Harriet, thinking back to her excursion in the shop and the words of Mr. Borgin, the hunch-backed shopkeeper with oily hair and a slimy smile. "Is that what you mean?" Her mother gave her a sharp look.

"Where did you hear that?"

Harriet looked down at her feet and mumbled, "Knockturn Alley. The shop I was in...there was a man there with his son. He was talking to the owner..."

Her mum sighed, "When we get home, you are going to give us more details about what happened to you when you got lost." Harriet nodded, although grudgingly. "As to your question, it is, partially. Some wizards think that pureblooded wizards, those with only magical blood, are better than half-bloods or muggleborns. Other wizards think that all magical creatures are inferior to wizards, regardless of his or her descent."

"Is that what Moony meant when he was explaining about the werewolves?"

"Exactly," approved her father of her conclusion. "But its not just werewolves. Other magical creatures like goblins, centaurs, giants, and house-elves are all thought of as less important. The truth, though, is that oftentimes they are just as powerful, if not more powerful, than we are."

"Its just a different type of magic," her mum said.

"Maybe its fear, then?" asked Harriet, looking up at her parents. "Whats making them think like that, I mean. Maybe they're afraid of things that are different. The Dursleys were."

"People usually are afraid of things they don't fully understand," her mum admitted. "The problem is that they are usually too afraid to  _try_  and understand it, so they shun it." Her mum grimaced. "Its a rather vicious cycle."

Harriet scowled to herself and her mother sighed. so Harriet turned back to the sign. It was funny, she thought, the wizarding world wasn't nearly as magical a place as she had first expected. As amazing as it was, there seemed to be a few things that the muggle world had figured out first.

"Its rubbish, of course," her father rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "Thankfully, its an older attitude that's dying out, and rather quickly, too. A lot more wizards are accepting that sometimes we don't always know whats best."

"So some wizards think that they're better than other people just because they were born either completely human or from other wizards?" Harriet asked, wide eyed, trying to fully understand everything she was learning. Her mother nodded and her father placed his hand on her shoulder. Harriet bit her lip.

"I think that this is one of those times when wizards are the ones who have got things the wrong way around."

Harriet looked at both her parents, then back at the door that had started the conversation. If the door realized the impact it had made on the eleven year old witch, it didn't make any sign of it. When the Potters finally pushed it open, several minutes after they had first stepped foot in the bank, the door opened for them just like it would have for anybody else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is up so late-- it needed more editing than usual. Regardless, I hope you enjoy :)


	7. Not So Very Reassuring Reassurances

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".**

**~Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gringotts Bank- July 25, 1991**

"Good morning. We are here to take some money out of the Potter vault." The goblin at the desk looked up and sneered at the three wizards in front of him as politely as he could, a feat Harriet found rather impressive.

While her father talked to the goblin, Harriet looked around the great marble hall. Goblins of all sorts roamed the building, some of them showing people around, others bustling about with packages and things. Seated at the desks were goblins doing paperwork, goblins examining gems and coins, and goblins doing all sorts of other things.

"Do you have your key?" the goblin was saying when Harriet turned her attention back to them.

"Right here," her mother said promptly, easily pulling the key out of the inside of her robe. The goblin gave another sneer, this time one that clearly stated he was a bit impressed. Most likely at her organization, judging by the state of his desk and books.

"And which Potter vault shall you be visiting, today?" he asked, taking the key from her mum.

"Vault 687," her father answered. The goblin nodded and said nothing for a few seconds. Then, "Everything seems to be in order," he said, finally, sounding just a bit disappointed. Harriet had to resist the urge to snicker. "I will find somebody to take you to the vault. Griphook!"

When the Griphook didn't respond, the goblin grumbled to himself and got up, waddling over to one of the bak rooms, continuing to call Griphook's name.

"'Which vault?'" Harriet echoed, startled, remembering the goblin's words.

"We have more than one," her father corrected idly, watching the goblin finally make his way back to them with another, supposedly Griphook. "They're your vaults, too, now."

"Come along then," snapped Griphook, before Harriet had a chance to respond to her father. He lead them through a small door and into a narrow passageway, which was lit with torches. They followed it downward (Harriet almost tripped several times) and eventually reached some rail-road tracks. At Griphook's whistle, a small cart came rumbling down the tracks towards them. It stopped in front of them.

Giving her parents a weary glance, Harriet stepped in once they nodded to show her it was okay.

Then, they were off.

As they hurtled through the maze of passageways, Harriet did her best to keep track of where they were going (left, right, right, left, middle, right…), but in the end had to give up. A glance at her parents showed that they were as lost as she was. In fact, only the cart seemed to know where they were going, since it seemed to be steering itself.

At one point, Harriet would've sworn that she saw a dragon (a bright burst of flame alerted her to it), but when she leaned out of the cart to see if she could get another glimpse. Her father pulled her swiftly back. She gave him a sheepish grin.

When the cart finally stopped in front of a small door, Harriet was so dizzy she could barely stand. Her parents were fairing a bit better, and Griphook seemed entirely unaffected. He walked over to the door and placed the key in the lock, opening it. Green smoke billowed out, and Harriet worried that something had gone wrong. Nobody else seemed concerned, though, so she supposed that this was normal. When it cleared, Harriet, whose parents had already explained wizard currency to her, was left staring at mounds of gold Galleons, columns of Sickles and heaps of little bronze Knuts.

Harriet couldn't believe it. For years, the Dursleys had done nothing but complain about how much it cost to raise her. It was one of the reasons why she never complained about Dudley's hand-me-downs or eating their leftovers— if it cost so much to have her, surely it was the least she could do?— but this… She was certain the Dursleys didn't know about  _this._ Despite their hatred of all things magical, she doubted they would've minded all the gold and silver in the Potter vaults.

"That was my first reaction, too," her mother said softly, while her father got to work filling the small bag he happened to have with him. Harriet smiled, appreciating, for the first time, that, like her, her mother didn't always know about magic. Nor did she always have access to the Potter vaults. Harriet vaguely wondered if all the Potter vaults contained a small fortune like this one did.

"There we go," her father said, stepping back out of the vault and drawing the drawstring of the little bag tight. "That should be enough for a couple of terms."

They clambered back into the cart, which once again set off and its backbreaking pace. Soon, they found themselves standing outside of Gringotts, blinking in the bright sunlight.

**Harriet Potter, Diagon Alley-July 1, 1991**

Harriet glanced around at some of the shops, trying to see if she could guess where they were going first, but eventually giving up and looking at her parents, who were watching her patiently.

"Well?" her mum asked her. "Any particular preference?" Harriet shook her head, not really sure of where to start.

"How about lunch," suggested her father. Seeing his daughter's surprised face, he smiled. "Yes, lunch. Between visiting Gringotts and you're little side trip to Knockturn Alley, its already past lunch time."

They chose the corner booth at a small diner, the name of which Harriet couldn't pronounce. After ordering their food, Harriet gave them a brief account of her trip to Knockturn Alley. Then, they quietly discussed what they needed to buy and where they should stop first. Harriet laughed when her father immediately suggested that Quality Quidditch Supplies be their first stop.

By the time they had finished their meal and left their restaurant, they decided that, first and foremost, Harriet would need some robes for Hogwarts, and that Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions should be the first stop.

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was a cozy shop that looked smaller on the outside than it was on the inside, something Harriet figured wasn't uncommon among wizard shops, judging by the store in Knockturn Alley. Madam Malkin, a small witch dressed completely in mauve, greeted them with a warm smile.

"Welcome" she began, as though it was a customary speech, "to-" She gasped, suddenly recognizing the Potter family. Harriet wasn't quite sure how she would react, but she was pleasantly surprised when Madam Malkin rushed to embrace both of her parents, instead of focusing on her.

"Lily," she said happily, backing away from them after a moment. "James! It is such a pleasure to see you both again! I was so happy when I heard!"

"We appreciate it," said her mum, looking more than a bit embarrassed, although it was clear that she was also dearly touched.

"You'll be needing some robes, I assume," Madam Malkin said briskly, quickly assuming a rather businesslike demeanor.

"Actually," Harriet's father interrupted, before she could get too carried away, "We are all taken care of, for now." Remus, given their sizes, had gone and purchased some clothing for them while he was setting up the house.

"We are here because Harriet needs her school robes. She'll be at Hogwarts soon."

"Oh, Harriet Potter!" Madam Malkin's eyes turned to Harriet and flicked upwards to her scar. For a split second, Harriet thought Madam Malkin was going to begin fawning over her like the customers of the Leaky Cauldron, but she seemed to contain herself and smiled. "You look so much like your parents!"

Ushering the three to the back of the store, she quickly took Harriet's measurements and then ordered them to wait there while she went to the back to look at some fabrics. Harriet's mother, curious as to what she had, went with her, leaving just Harriet and her father.

There was, however, another girl her age in the back of the room. Slightly chubby, she had dark brown hair and a tan face with a squashed-in nose. Harriet waited to see if the girl would notice her, hoping to be able to finally make a friend her age, but the girl was too busy yapping away to Madam Malkin's poor assistant, a young witch who was obligated to listen.

"My father is next door buying my books," the girl was informing the seamstress's assistant, "and my mother is out looking at wands." The girl gave the seamstress a sour look. "I do hope," she drawled, "that you are done by the time they get back.

"It will be done soon, Ms. Parkinson," said the seamstress in a tired voice.

"It better look like the one I saw in TweenWitch Monthly. I don't to be caught dead in out of date robes." She continued to explain to the seamstress about how "dreadfully awful and completely humiliating" it must be for wizards or witches who couldn't afford their own custom made robes." Harriet, reminded strongly of a female Dudley (only, she looked more like a pug than a pig), turned away, slightly disgusted. She felt her father kneel down next to her, so she turned to look at him.

"What do you say, Prongslette?" he asked her with a small smile. "Want to try and make a new friend?" He gestured over to the Parkinson girl and Harriet grimaced a bit.

"I really rather not," she said a bit hesitantly, looking at her father, worried that he would try and get her to talk to her anyways, which he did not. Instead, he observed the talkative girl for a moment, before laughing lightly and nodding in agreement with her.

"Doesn't exactly seem like the most pleasant sort, does she?" Harriet shook her head rapidly. "I wouldn't worry, then. Besides, you'll have plenty of time to make friends once you're at Hogwarts."

"Maybe I'll meet my own Moony and Padfoot!" Harriet said hopefully. Her father gave her a large smile that Harriet recognized as the one he got whenever he thought about his two best friends.

"I'm sure you will," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then straightening back up. Harriet leant against him, so he put his arms around her, holding her close to his front. They stood like that for a few minutes as they patiently awaited the return of Harriet's mother and Madam Malkin.

When they returned, each carried several different fabrics, from which they asked Harriet to choose one or two. She did, feeling slightly dazed since fashion and fabrics were not really her specialty. She was fitted into several different robes, which were pinned and tucked and hemmed, until finally, Madam Malkin had enough to finish the rest of the robes. After Madam Malkin had assured the Potters that the robes would be delivered to their home in time for Hogwarts, they left to get the rest of Harriet's things.

Harriet spent a lot of time examining everything in the shops they went to: at Flourish and Blotts, where they got her school books, it was books on curses ("For Dudley!" she protested as her parents lead her away); at the Apothecary it was jars of herbs and unicorn horns and beetle eyes; and at the potions shop it was the different cauldrons they had for potions brewing (she ended up getting a pewter one, as her school list suggested).

Outside the Apothecary, they looked Harriet's list again. Her father smiled.

"Just your wand now, Prongslette." Harriet didn't even bother to contain her excitement as they walked over to Ollivanders. The shop was narrow and rather shabby, with a sign over the door that read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. In the dusty, display window, there was a single wand floating above a dirty, purple pillow. Harriet wondered why they bothered with a velvet cushion for a floating wand.

Their entrance to the shop was announced by the tinkle of a bell (like at the store in Knockturn Alley). It wasn't a large shop, nor was it especially well lit. There were a few chairs that her parents immediately sat on to wait, an old cabinet, and a counter. Other than that, the shop contained nothing but rows and rows of narrow boxes piled high, right up to the ceiling.

The back of Harriet's neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

She shot a wary look at her parents, who smiled in an encouragement. She walked a bit closer to the front counter.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harriet jumped in surprise. In the darkness of the store, Harriet could make out on old man she hadn't seen before standing amongst the rows of boxes. He was older, with pale skin, and wide, grey eyes.

"Er, hello." Harriet said awkwardly, not too sure what to make of the man.

"Ah yes," said the man, moving toward the counter. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harriet Potter." He looked down at her, his eyes almost seeming to see right through her, but not in the same way Dumbledore's did. "You have your mother's eyes." Harriet wondered how many more times she was going to hear that in her lifetime. He looked over her shoulder to where Harriet's parents were sitting.

"Lily," he inclined his head as a greeting. "James. If I remember correctly, Lily, your wand was ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Her mother fingered the wand in her robe pocket and gave a small smile, "Thats right, Mr. Ollivander."

"You, James," Ollivander turned his light eyes to Harriet's father, "favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration." Harriet's father grinned and nodded, prompting Ollivander to look again at Harriet. "I say your father favored it," he said softly, "but truly its the wand that chooses the wizard."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close to Harriet that, had they been the same height, their noses would have been touching. He reached up with a gnarled finger and traced the scar on Harriet's forehead. She heard her parents stiffen behind her, but Mr. Ollivander didn't do anything. He merely sighed and dropped his hand. Harriet could see herself reflected in his misty eyes, mingling with a great sadness and regret.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

Harriet gulped, "It wasn't your fault, sir." He peered at her from underneath his tangle of white hair.

"I am glad that you, of all people, Harriet, do not hold me accountable for what I did." He gave her a small smile. Then, to her great relief, he turned around and began rummaging around a door behind the counter. He pulled out a small tape measure.

"Which is your wand arm, Ms. Potter?" he asked, suddenly all business. Harriet started at the sudden change in tone.

"Well, I'm right handed-" Harriet began, unsure if that was what he meant. It was, apparently.

"Hold out your right arm, please. Thats it." Ollivander proceeded to take several different types of measurements— of her arms, her legs, her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Mr. Ollivander left the tape measure to finish taking some measurements (nothing in the wizarding world would surprise Harriet anymore, she thought) as he began to move through the different shelves, occasionally picking up and taking down different boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor, barely missing Harriet's toes. "Right then, Ms. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible.

Harriet took the wand and looked at it, not really sure what to do. Mr. Ollivander raised an eyebrow and gave an impatient sigh.

"Go on!" He gestured, "Just take it and give it a wave!"

Harriet jumped, then collected herself. Taking a deep breath, she gave the wand a light flick. The vase of roses near the window suddenly shattered, spilling water and flower petals everywhere. Mr. Ollivander made a curious noise in the back of his throat as Harriet's mum waved her wand, instantly fixing the vase.

"That hasn't happened in awhile." Mr. Ollivander quickly snatched the wand out of Harriet's hand and placed it delicately into the box. Harriet was handed another wand, a bit smaller and darker than the previous one.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try —"

Harriet tried —and an entire row of drawers in the cabinet sprung forth, scattering paper everywhere. Harriet's father, who had been standing directly in the line of fire, had to quickly duck in order to avoid being hit. He stood up after a moment and smoothed out his clothes, shooting his wife and daughter a smile to assure them that he was okay.

"No," gasped Mr. Ollivander, "No, No! Definitely not." Harriet placed the wand back on the counter gingerly, worried that if she did it too roughly, the wand would be set off.

"No, no — here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harriet tried. And tried. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on counter Harriet's attempts were growing more and more destructive: already, she had cracked the bell above the door, killed the flowers, broken a window, and even set fire to Mr. Ollivander's hair. Mr. Ollivander wasn't angry, though. In fact, he just laughed as Harriet's father put out the flame. Despite the fact that Harriet seemed liable to blow up the store, he was downright giddy. It seemed that the more wands he pulled down from the shelves, the happier he became.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

He carefully handed it to Harriet, who took it hesitantly. Almost immediately, she knew this would be different. The wand sent warmth shooting from her fingertips and rushing through her entire body. Harriet gave it a small wave and immediately felt a breeze pick up around the shop, whipping her hair in a frenzy. A flurry of gold sparks shot from the end of the wand and fluttered about in the windo.

Her father and mother clapped, obviously relieved that they wouldn't have to dodge anymore flying cats (Harriet felt awfully bad for what she had done to Mr. Ollivander's tabby, but he had told her not to worry about it and that it would be fine).

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

He put Harriet's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious… curious…"

"Sorry, sir," said Harriet, feeling her parents come up behind her, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harriet with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harriet didn't know what to say and she couldn't help but swallow.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great."

Harriet took a half-step backwards, running into her parents. She managed to find and clutch her mother's hand, looking carefully at Ollivander. She wasn't too sure about whether or not she liked Mr. Ollivander. A tap on the window drew Harriet's attention away from Mr. Ollivander, who didn't seem to realize how creepy he was being.

Hagrid stood outside the window, grinning hugely and waving madly to get their attention. It took Harriet a moment to recall Hagrid's promise to her earlier, but, when she did, she smiled and waved back. They quickly paid for the wand, eager to leave the store, and met the huge man outside.

Hagrid didn't say anything. Instead, he lifted up something in his hand: perched calmy in a cage was a beautiful, snowy white owl.

"Yeh like 'er?" Hagrid asked, anxiously.

Harriet's smile gave him all the answer he needed.

* * *

**Living Room, Potter Manor- July 25, 1991**

When James walked into his living room through the Floo, he was not surprised to see Remus and Sirius lounging on his couch, as they had told him they wanted to hear about Harriet's trip to Diagon Alley as soon as they could. Harriet, who had convinced both her mother and himself to let her try the Floo on her own again, launched herself at both of them as soon as she saw them.

"Moony!" she exclaimed, "Padfoot!"

"Hello, Prongslette!" laughed Sirius. When Harriet backed away, moving to sit in the middle of the couch, James got a better look at both his friends. They both looked exhausted and he could see traces of dust and grime that they must have missed when they were cleaning themselves off. Sirius, as happy as he looked to see his goddaughter, had a haunted and rather bitter look in his eyes. James needed to talk to him.

"Hey, Prongslette," he began, "Padfoot and Moony are really knackered from cleaning all day. Why don't you take your new things upstairs and put them away? While they rest a little bit, you could see if your new owl gets along with Isaura."

Harriet gave her father a slightly suspicious glance, knowing that that couldn't be the real reason she was being asked to vacate the room. She's just as smart as her mother, James thought, trying not smile proudly. Harriet finally nodded and, after giving both Sirius and Remus a quick kiss on the cheek, she took what she needed and headed upstairs.

"I'll go make some tea," Lily offered, knowing that this was one of those times where her husband needed to be alone with his friends.

"You alright, Padfoot?" he asked, as soon as his wife had left the room. Sirius just sighed and placed his head in his hands, leaning forward and shaking his head a bit.

"It was so hard being back there again," he answered, voice coming out a bit muffled. "I was reliving a part of my life that I thought that I had left behind me a long time ago."

"You don't have to live there, Padfoot," Remus pointed out gently. "I know you don't want to share a flat with me for the rest of your life, but you could always buy a new house when you want to move out."

"Yea," sighed Sirius, looking miserably up at his friends, eyes a bit red. "thats probably what I'll do. But that house has quite a few powerful enchantments and wards around it. I wanted to see if it could be of any use some day in the future. "

"Was it?" asked James, curiously, wishing that he could have been there to help his long-time best friends. "I mean, was it still in decent shape?"

Sirius shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. He leant back on the couch. "Not too bad. Very dirty, as I'm sure you can imagine. Kreacher didn't do a very good job keeping it clean."

"He's still there?" snorted James. Sirius gave a small laugh. "What about your mother's portrait?"

"Oh yes," Sirius agreed. "She's still there."

"And as pleasant as ever," Remus remarked sarcastically. "The entire time we were there, she kept screaming about "filthy half-breeds" and "blood-traitors."

"You'd think after having nothing to do but hang on a wall for thirteen years," mused Sirius with a smile, "she would have come up with better insults."

The three of them laughed together. When it faded, they sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to Lily humming in the kitchen. They could hear Harriet rummaging around in her room, trying to put all of her new school supplies away.

"Thanks," Sirius said, after a few moments. He didn't need to tell Remus or James what he was thanking them for. They knew. After so many years of friendship, it was not difficult to guess what the other was thinking.

"Did Harriet-" Sirius began, only to be cut short by the sound of the Floo ringing. James was pretty sure he felt his jaw drop when he saw who had called on them.

"Snape?" he asked incredulously, staring unabashedly at the head sticking out from the green flames of the fireplace. He managed to compose himself "What are you doing here?"

"Lily informed me that Harriet would be making her first trip to Diagon Alley," he sneered, "and I simply wanted to make sure that you had not forgotten to purchase any of the Potions supplies she'll be needing in my class."

James raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly think Lily would forget anything?" James smirked a bit. "You wanted to make sure Harriet was alright."

Snape scowled deeper. "It is none of my concern whether or not the brat had a good time at Diagon Alley."

James just laughed and fixed the Potions master with a shrewd look. Even after their rather interesting dinner the night before (was it just the night before? It seemed like ages ago) when they had come to a tentative truce, James did not like nor trust the professor. But Snape seemed honestly concerned for his daughter (no matter how hard he tried to hide it) and, truthfully, James found it very difficult to hate a man who cared for his daughter.

"Why don't you come on through," he suggested, after a minute, "I was just about to tell Remus and Sirius what happened. And Lily is making tea," he added as an afterthought, hoping that the knowledge that Lily was there would convince Snape that this was not some elaborate ruse they were trying to set up.

His head left and, for a moment, James thought that Snape wasn't coming. The Floo roared loudly a moment later, though, and Snape stepped through, sneering at the Marauders as if daring them to make a comment.

They didn't.

The four men sat in the living room quietly, but, unlike before, the silence was not a comfortable. Nobody really seemed sure of where to look or what to do, so they did nothing but stare at the floor and occasionally fidget a bit. It was Snape, of all people, who broke the silence.

"Well, Potter?" He drawled. James looked up at him. "Are we going to sit here all day? Or are you going to give us an account of your brat's trip? I do have things to do."

"Right," said James, honestly relieved that somebody had broken the awkward silence. "Where should I start?"

"How about with the beginning?" joked Remus, adding, more seriously, "You mentioned you were going to let Harriet Floo on her own for the first time. She must have been a bit nervous. How did that go?"

"She coughed," James made a face.

"She coughed?" Sirius asked, obviously confused. "What does that have to do with anything? Is she coming down with something?"

James shook his head. "As she was telling the Floo where she wanted to go, she coughed." The other men nodded in realization.

"So," demanded Snape, a bit more crossly than he usually did, "Where did she end up?"

"Not too far," said James lightly. Remus raised an eyebrow and Sirius gave him a sharp look. Both Marauders recognized when James was trying to avoid an issue. He darkly scowled at them.

"Knockturn Alley." All heads turned to the kitchen door, from which Lily had just emerged carrying a tray of tea. Placing it on the coffee table, she balanced herself on the arm of couch, next to her husband.

"Knockturn Alley?" Remus repeated. "Are you sure?" Remus realized what a ridiculous question that was and, not giving them a chance to answer, asked, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Her glasses were smashed from when she fell from the Floo, but she wasn't hurt." James said, much to the relief of the three other men in the room (Snape would still, of course, deny having felt anything at all).

"What store did she end up in?" asked Sirius.

"Borgin and Burkes," sighed Lily. Sirius, who had been pouring tea into his cup, stared at her incredulously, not even noticing when the teacup began to overflow.

"Why do I get the feeling that I am going to be spending half my time at Hogwarts this year chasing your daughter out of places she shouldn't be?" Snape groused to Lily. Lily just laughed at him and smiled cheekily.

"Did she get out of there quickly?" Remus inquired, worried about Harriet, despite the fact that he had seen her several minutes ago looking perfectly healthy.

"She tried, but somebody entered the shop and she panicked." Lily shook her head. "She hid inside a cabinet that was, thankfully, perfectly harmless."

"Hiding wasn't a bad idea," Sirius noted. "It wouldn't be a good idea for the Girl-Who-Lived to be caught in Knockturn Alley, regardless of whether or not she meant to be there. No doubt somebody from the Daily Prophet would have gotten wind of it and..." He trailed off, not wanting to imagine the hell that would break loose.

"Who was it that came into the shop?" Remus asked.

"She said it was a man and a boy about her age," Lily explained. "According to her, Borgin said their last name was Malfoy. They were selling something, although Harriet couldn't see what. Most likely because of the raids."

"The Malfoys are still around?" asked Sirius surprised, sitting up straighter on the couch. "That family was pretty tight in Voldemort's inner circle, if I remember correctly. I would have thought that they, well, Lucius at the very least, would be in Azkaban by now."

"Lucius Malfoy made several considerable donations to the Ministry," Snape drawled, taking a sip of tea, "thus placing him above suspicion for the time being. "

"Git," snorted Sirius at Malfoy's not-so-subtle bribery.

"So Harriet found her way out of Borgin and Burkes after the Malfoys left?" prodded Remus, after a moment. Both Lily and James nodded.

"After she left Borgin and Burkes, she wandered around for a minute, trying to find her way out. Thankfully, Hagrid was there and helped her find us back at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Hagrid!" Remus beamed. "I haven't seen him in ages! How is he?"

"He was well," acknowledged Lily. "He was very happy to see us and Harriet."

"Please tell me everything after that went well," Sirius begged, making his friends laugh. "My nerves are already on end." Snickering, James answered his friend.

"Yes, there was nothing out of the ordinary after that." He paused for a moment and exchanged a look with his wife. "Well, her trip to Ollivander's was odd..." Remus scoffed.

"When is that trip not odd?" Remus rolled his eyes. "Ollivander is one of the most bizarre men I've ever met, which is saying something, since I live with him!" He jabbed a finger in Sirius's direction, making him shoot a glare at his friend. Lily shook her head.

"No, it wasn't exactly that." She frowned. "When you were trying out wands, when you used a wand that wasn't yours, did anything happen?" Everybody shook their heads.

"Harriet ended up destroying half the store," James massaged his head. "Every time she tried out another wand, there was something different: breaking vases, flying drawers, setting Ollivander's hair on fire-"

"She did that?" guffawed Sirius, Remus chuckling appreciatively. Even Snape couldn't resist a small smirk.

"I've heard of things like that happening," Remus assured his friends, once he had calmed down. "Its not common, but its not unheard of. There was a recent paper published in the wizarding medical journals about it. In all honesty, I'm not surprised it happened with Harriet."

Seeing the curious looks of his friends, he hastened to explain.

"As you know, accidental magic occurs because, when wizards are young, their magical Core is constantly in flux," Remus began, in his best lecturing voice. "The level of magic held with their Core is still adjusting and growing and developing. Sometimes, it surges to a point where a child is not able to contain it, manifesting itself in accidental magic, like when a cup overflows with water. Thats why accidental magic is encouraged. Not just because it ensures that a child has magic, but also because bottling up the magic, so to speak, can have detrimental affects on the child-"

"Yes, Moony," Sirius huffed impatiently, "We know all that already. What does it have to do with Harriet?"

"It all goes back to Dursleys," began Remus, scowling at his friend for interrupting him. James made a face.

"Why does it always have to go back to them?"

"If what Harriet has told us is accurate, the Dursleys made an attempt to punish every incident of Harriet's accidental magic," explained Remus, running a hand through his hair. "and we can assume that this started as soon as she entered their house. At some point, probably without even realizing it, she began to restrain her magic in order to avoid punishment. I don't know if you remember, but Harriet used to do quite a bit of accidental magic as a baby."

James snorted. "I remember. There was this one time where she came down with a cold and, for over a week, every time she sneezed, my hair changed color."

"If you've noticed, Harriet doesn't do nearly as much accidental magic now, though."

"Couldn't that just be attributed to her getting older and her Core stabilizing?"

"Normally," agreed Remus, "that is what I would say was happening. But that doesn't really explain what happened at Ollivander's. According to the paper I read, abused children often put a "stopper" of sorts on their magical Core, preventing any further accidental magic."

Both Lily and James winced at hearing Harriet being described as "abused." Snape, however, nodded in agreement with Remus.

"There have been quite a few abused children in Slytherin over the years. More so than in other houses." said Snape. "What Remus is explaining isn't uncommon, but normally, the child is not able to maintain the control for extended periods of time and, at some point or another, unleashes his or her magic in a way that could leave their family scarred forever. Either that, or the child is left psychologically and physically damaged from the build-up in their Core unleashing itself internally." Snape took a sip of tea. "For Potter to maintain control for so long without any damage to her health..." Snape shook his head, doubting it.

"Madam Pomfrey's scans didn't find anything," protested James, slightly panicked.

"Its not like Harriet didn't do any accidental magic," pointed out Sirius, trying not to laugh at the mental image of Harriet's uncle floating to the ceiling like some ugly balloon.

"From what Harriet's told us about her accidental magic," agreed Remus, "it seems more likely that she released her built up magic in several, larger instances, as opposed to the many, smaller instances that usually occur in magical children, which served her purpose well: less accidental magic meant less punishment, since the Dursleys didn't seem to care to much about the magnitude of the incident."

"Even then," Snape protested, "it might be enough to keep her Core from imploding, but it would still be "filled to the brink," he spoke caustically, "to use your" he sneered, "wonderful expression."

"Thats where the occurrence at Ollivander's comes in," said Remus calmy, not rising to the bait. "Wands act as channels for magic. Harriet's been bottling her magic up for so long that, as soon as it was given a way out, it exploded, regardless of whether or not it was her wand. Similar to when you shake up a bottle of Butterbeer or Firewhiskey and it explodes the moment the top comes off."

"Well," murmured Lily, visibly relaxing, "that makes me feel quite a bit better. Thank-you, Remus."

Remus just inclined his head, taking the final sip of his tea and placing the cup back on the table. Sirius, on the other hand, was warily eyeing his friend, who still a bit tense.

"Prongs," Sirius said, catching James's attention, "that wasn't the only thing that happened, was it?"

"Not exactly," admitted James. "Ollivander gave us some very interesting information regarding Harriet's wand."

"What about it?" asked Remus, looking at his two friends curiously, wondering what information could have affected them so strongly.

"Its the brother of Voldemort's wand," Lily stated bluntly. Sirius, Remus, and Snape didn't really know what to say to that, so they were just quiet for a moment, taking some time to absorb the information.

"I am not going to lie," Sirius finally said. "I did not see that coming."

"I don't think anybody did," Remus shot a look at Sirius. "It is definitely a bit disconcerting, but-"

"A bit?" echoed James, annoyed. "My daughter has Voldemort's brother wand!"

"It doesn't mean anything," protested Remus, before pausing. "At least," he added weakly, "I don't think it does. I'm not very familiar with wand lore. I can take a look though," he muttered, more to himself. "I might be able to find something where I work."

"You seem to be viewing the occurrence as a bad thing," said Snape.

"Oh?" Sirius demanded. "Excuse us for not thinking that Harriet having the brother wand of your old master is cause for celebration!"

"Sirius," Lily hissed, glaring harshly. Snape, however, seemed completely unaffected by the barbed comment.

"Foolish Gryffindor," he sneered, "always thinking of the immediate effect and never looking toward the future. Do you not know of what happens when brother wands are forced to meet one another?"

Judging by their blank stares, Snape assumed they didn't.

"Brother wands do not work properly against one another," Snape sighed, trying to keep his impatience and exasperation out of his voice. "If Potter ever finds herself facing the Dark Lord, she will, at the very least, have that advantage."

"Amazingly enough," James rolled his eyes, "I don't find that thought too reassuring."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- July 25, 1991**

At dinner that night, Harriet sat quietly at the table, listening to the adults talk. She wasn't really eating her food, but rather pushing it around her plate, deep in thought. Before she had gone out to get her school supplies, her fame wasn't something she really thought of. She knew of it, of course, but it was simply a small spot flickering on the edge of her mind. Ever since the events at Diagon Alley, though, she had been pondering the idea of her fame and what it meant.

She was famous for something that she could not remember, save for a flash of green light and a high-pitched laugh. She didn't know how she had done what she had done, but the wizards she had met today seemed to expect her to be some sort of superhero, like the ones in Dudley's comic books. She didn't fell like one.

Moreover, she didn't want to be one.

If everybody expected her to do something incredible one day, however, how would they react if she did nothing? Granted, she honestly didn't care to much for their opinions, since she really didn't know them, but she couldn't help but fear that her parents felt the same way.

"Harriet."

What if they got bored of her?

"Harriet?"

Would they send her back to the Dursleys? Would she have to-

"Harriet!"

Harriet jumped, just realizing that somebody had been calling her name. She met the expectant, and slightly worried, gaze of her mother. Harriet began idly twirling a strand of her hair around her finger in an attempt to calm herself down.

"Yeah, mum?" she asked politely, trying to pretend that she had been listening to the conversation around her. Her mother didn't buy it, however, and raised an elegant, auburn eyebrow.

"Are you alright, love?" She frowned. "You looked worried there, for a minute."

"I'm alright," Harriet assured her mother. "I am," she protested, seeing everybody's doubtful look. It was Uncle Severus who voiced their concerns.

"I find that doubtful," he retorted calmly, taking a slow sip of his water, "since you haven't said a word all night. Normally, though, I find myself hard pressed to get you to stop your incessant chattering."

"Its just," Harriet began, making sure to pointedly ignore Snape's victorious smirk, "today, at Diagon Alley-"

"You aren't worried about what Mr. Ollivander said about your wand, are you Prongslette?" assumed her father. Harriet didn't have to a chance to answer, though, because he began to ramble worriedly. "Its nothing you have to worry about, Harriet. It doesn't mean anything and-"

"Dad!" she interjected loudly. She was so loud in fact, that the entire table stared at her, never having heard her sound that way before. She blushed and lowered her eyes. "That is not what I was thinking about."

"Oh," her father seemed unsure of what to say, so he settled for throwing a roll at Sirius, who was snickering behind his spoon.

"Should I be worried about what Mr. Ollivander said?" Harriet asked her father curiously. He blanched.

"No!" Harriet's mum was quick to take over, while her father tried to recover. "Now, what was it you were thinking about?"

"I was thinking about all of the people at the Leaky Cauldron," she admitted. She waited for her parents to realize what she meant.

"You mean the ones who went mental when the saw you?" Harriet's mum rolled her eyes at her husband's eloquent description. Harriet laughed and nodded whole-heartedly.

"What about them, Prongslette?" asked Sirius, already having heard the story earlier.

"Everyone thinks I'm special," she said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander… but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Voldemort came to the house and-sorry-I mean, on that night."

"Oh, Harriet," her mother said, sounding relieved. "Is that what you were worried about?" Harriet shrugged.

"Love, don't worry about it. I didn't know anything when I first got to Hogwarts, remember?" Harriet nodded hesitantly.

"You'll learn soon enough, Prongslette," her father told her, smiling a bit. "I know its hard. You've been singled out, so I'm not going to say its going to be easy, but you'll have a good time, regardless. Everybody does, I promise!"

"Your father is right!" her mother beamed. "Look at Severus! He still has a great time at Hogwarts!" Harriet had to stifle her laughter when she saw the pointed look her mother gave Snape and the annoyed look she received in return.

"Yes," he said, "I thoroughly enjoy spending the majority of my time trying to teach unwilling imbeciles the subtle art of potions making, knowing full well that they neither understand nor appreciate it."

His sarcasm was laced on so heavily that Harriet's mum threw her hands up, exasperated and even Sirius couldn't hold back an appreciative chuckle. Then, a surprisingly comfortable (surprising because several of the men at the table held well known grudges against each other) descended on the table.

"So," Harriet said after a moment, "you won't send me back to the Dursleys if you get bored with me?"

The silence that followed this statement was not nearly as comfortable as the previous one.

"Get bored with-" her father muttered weakly, looking at her in obvious disbelief. Harriet mentally berated herself. She honestly needed to learn when to keep her mouth shut. She quickly got up from her chair and grabbed her plate, ready to make a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

"Never mind," she said quickly, walking towards the kitchen, "forget I said anything."

Her mother was not going to let her off that easily, however, and, before Harriet could make a clean getaway, her mum pulled her into her lap by the belt-loops of her jeans. She let out an indignant squeak.

"Harriet," her mother, worried, said. "We aren't going to get bored with you!" Harriet tried to wiggle away, but her mother just held her tighter. "And we certainly aren't going to send you back to the Dursleys!"

"I know," Harriet said quickly, feeling very embarrassed at this point. "I didn't mean to say anything I just-"

Harriet was cut off by her father, who had gotten up from his chair and gone over to them, took Harriet's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Harriet, you're mother and I didn't have a child because we were bored and needed entertainment. We had you because we wanted to raise you and watch you grow up." He smiled at her. "We aren't going to get rid of you when you stop being exciting," he raised an eyebrow skeptically, "which I doubt will happen anytime soon."

"Especially if all of your trips were as exciting as today's," Sirius, who had been listening on the conversation, quipped.

Harriet did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at him.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor-July 31, 1991**

When Harriet woke up, she didn't notice anything particularly different about that morning. Nor did she realize anything was amiss when she put on her clothing. She descended the stairs as she normally did, not noticing the slightly unnerving silence. It wasn't until she reached the living room and found all the lights shut off that she noticed anything was up. Frowning, she flicked on the light.

"SURPRISE!"

Harriet had to bite back a scream and Isaura, curled around her wrist, let out a very angry hiss. Standing in her living room, looking quite proud of themselves, were her parents, Sirius, Remus, and Snape (Harriet suspected that, judging by the scowl on his face, he was not one of the people who had yelled surprise). She was also a bit surprised to see Dumbledore there, looking serene as always.

"What-?" Harriet tried to figure out what was going on. For some reason, the large HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRIET banner just wasn't processing.

"Its your birthday, Prongslette," said her father, looking highly amused. Harriet could only stare at him, making his smile falter. "Did you honestly not remember?"

"I've never celebrated- I didn't-" She seemed at a loss for words and settled for taking another moment to examine the room. They had gone all out she noticed. There were quite a few balloons, mounds of confetti, and the banner they had hung up wasn't hanging at all. Instead it was floating above them without any strings to hold it up.

"Well," Sirius said cheerfully, pulling her into the living room and onto the couch. "Its a good thing we remembered for you."

Harriet plopped down onto the couch, stills slightly dazed. She managed a small smile to Professor Dumbledore.

"Hello, sir," she said shyly. She hadn't had very many options to talk to the headmaster, so she was a bit shocked to see him in her family's living room. If he felt at all awkward, though, he definitely didn't show it.

"Hello, Harriet," was his simple response. "Happy birthday."

Harriet nodded dumbly, "Thank-you, sir" she finally said. She had finally registered that her parents were throwing her a small surprise party (indeed, it had taken a long time, but it wasn't exactly something she was used to). She felt something being placed in her lap and saw that her father had just handed her a colorfully wrapped gift.

"I'd hurry up and open it if I were you," he said conversationally, "you've got quite a few left."

"I have presents?" Harriet asked, stunned. Her mother frowned for a moment, before smiling again.

"Yes, love," she said. "That one is from your father and I."

Harriet began to hesitantly open the wrapping paper, moving a bit faster at her parents encouraging smiles. She opened it and found herself staring at a fairly large, leather-bound book. Opening it, she saw that it was a photo album. She flipped through the pages and realized that the first third or so of the book had already been filled with pictures; some of her parents at Hogwarts, some of them after Hogwarts, and quite a few of her as a baby.

"The rest of it is for you to fill up once you get to Hogwarts," offered her father. Harriet got up from her seat and walked over to her parents, giving them both a large hug, which they happily returned. After a moment they released her and she was sent back to the couch, where she proceeded to open her other presents.

From Snape, she got a lovely set of scales for potions making ("Now you do not have any excuses for blowing up the classroom," he had warned her sternly).

From Remus, she had gotten a dragon-hide wand holster that strapped onto her wrist. As Remus helped her get it on, trying to ignore Isaura's annoyed hisses, he explained that it was spelled against wear and tear and to remain invisible once it had been put onto its owner. It also adjusted to size and the wand in it could be released with a simple flick of the wrist.

Harriet was a bit confused by Sirius's gift.

"Three small mirrors?" she asked, holding them up to the light for inspection. James, apparently knew what they were though and let out a laugh. Remus, too, also shook his head a bit and chuckled.

"Your father, Remus, Pettigrew," his smile grew a bit forced here, "and I came up with these mirrors to talk to each other during class or detention. I thought you might enjoy them at Hogwarts.'

Harriet traced the mirror carefully, not really sure how she should be feeling. It was odd, knowing that her father and his friends had used these mirrors when they were her age (maybe a bit older) and that now it was her turn. She shot a smile at Sirius while Lily chastised him gently.

"Honestly, Sirius," she said, doing her best to sound stern, even though it was obvious that she was quite happy with his gift, "you are not supposed to be encouraging her to get into more trouble!"

"What kind of Marauder would I be if I didn't?" was his retort.

"A good one," Lily grumbled. Sirius pretended that he didn't hear. Dumbledore took a gift from his robes.

"Well, Lily, I fear that you will be very disappointed with my gift to Harriet, then." Lily looked suspiciously at the headmaster, while Harriet tried to protest.

"You didn't have to get me anything!" Dumbledore, like Hagrid, waved away her protests and cheerfully handed Harriet her present.

"I did not get you anything," Dumbledore said happily, "I am simply returning something to its rightful owner."

Harriet's father looked as though he had realized something, but didn't say anything to her, so Harriet unwrapped the light parcel. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds.

"I borrowed it from you, James, quite a few years ago, with all the intention of returning it." Dumbledore smiled as Harriet carefully picked it from the floor. "But something told me you would be giving it to her, anyways."

Her dad simply nodded, grinning hugely at his daughter's perplexity.

"What is it?" she asked her father.

"Its an invisibility cloak," Sirius was the one to answer, looking as excited as her dad. Harriet looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if he was joking or not, before taking the cloak and tossing over her shoulders. Sure enough, she was left looking like a floating head.

"Woah," she said, almost laughing at the amount of joy that was filling her up. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"That cloak explains how you were able to pull off your many juvenile pranks," he muttered, "without getting caught, despite your below average intelligence."

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Keep in mind, Harriet," her mother warned, after a minute of watching her daughter examine the cloak more closely. Harriet looked up at her. "If we find out you are misusing that cloak in any way, it will be taken away from you."

Her father agreed, although he seemed a bit more grudging about it. Harriet, having finished opening up her gifts ("Your father wanted to go overboard," her mother informed her wryly, "but I told him to save it for Christmas"), took everything upstairs and put them away while the adults prepared the cake.

They sang "Happy Birthday" to her (even Snape, although he looked remarkably out of place among the festive decorations) and, between the seven of them, devoured the cake. Eventually, both Dumbledore and Snape left, leaving Harriet with her parents and Remus and Sirius.

For the rest of the day, they told her stories about Hogwarts and growing up, oftentimes making her laugh until tears were running down her face.

That night, she fell asleep on the couch with them, a content smile on her face.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Harriet's trip to Diagon Alley, her birthday, and so on! Enjoy! Up next? Hogwarts! The train ride, meeting Ron and Hermione, and the all-important Sorting ceremony!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


	8. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".**

**~Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Kings Cross- September 1, 1991**

"You want me to what?" gaped Harriet, staring at her parents incredulously. Today was the day she left for Hogwarts. The mood around the Potter household had been melancholy all morning as they got ready to leave for Kings Cross. Remus and Sirius had met them there, which was how Harriet found herself with four people telling her that she had to-

"Run through the wall between platforms nine and ten," repeated her father. Harriet stared at the very real, very solid looking wall in front of her. Hesitantly, she took her hand and placed it on the bricks.

They didn't move.

She gave them another incredulous look. Sirius rolled his eyes and leant against Harriet's cart, which he had been holding for her.

"It won't work if you do it like that," he informed her. She sighed and looked again at the wall, located directly in between platforms nine and ten, as her father had instructed. Her ticket had informed her that she needed to get to Platform 9 3/4, but she had first assumed that it was just a misprint.

"Can't I just Floo to Uncle Sev's office," she begged. No matter what anybody told her, she honestly did not feel comfortable running headlong into a wall.

"Harriet," her mother said, "if it would make you feel better, one of us could-"

"Honestly!" came an annoyed voice from behind them. Confused, Harriet twisted around and saw a plump, red haired woman leading her way through the throng of people, six red-haired children in tow, five boys and one girl.

"Packed with Muggles, of course," she was grumbling. "Now, what was that platform number, dears?"

"Nine and three-quarters!" answered the little girl, who looked to be a bit younger than Harriet. "Please, mum, can't I go?"

"You're not old enough, Ginny!" chided the woman, as she reached the platform. Her face gentled a bit when she saw them, her stern face becoming softer. "It looks like somebody has beaten us to it! Hello, there!"

"Hello," responded Sirius just as cheerfully. He had missed human interaction while in Azkaban (among other things), so he made sure to take advantage of it when he had the chance. The woman did a double take when she saw him. Understandably, it had been difficult for the wizarding world to accept that the man they had thought guilty of murder for over nine years was actually innocent.

"Sirius Black?" she gaped, and Sirius winced. He had been met with some less-than-favorable reactions in the past and was anticipating another. What he, or Harriet, was not expecting was for her to throw his arms around him and begin sobbing.

"Oh, Sirius!" She gasped, as Sirius shot panicked looks to his friends and goddaughter, "I couldn't believe it when I first heard! I mean, when they first locked you up, I was so shocked! Fabian and Gideon always had such great things to say about you! And you were there for so long-"

Sirius patted her back, looking remarkably uncomfortable at all the attention he was receiving. He seemed to come to a realization, however.

"Molly?" he asked hesitantly. The woman backed away from Sirius and straightened her robes. She gave Sirius a watery smile.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding a bit embarrassed. "I know we've only met a few times, but Fabian and Gideon used to talk about you all the time, I feel as though I've known you for ages." She turned to Remus. "You must be Remus! Its been far too long!"

He gave her a small smile as she, once again, ran to embrace him. Harriet didn't really know whether she should laugh or hide before she was squeezed next. The woman then turned to Harriet's mum and Dad, both of whom were looking very prepared for the inevitable reaction that was to follow.

"James," she gasped, wrapping them both in firm hugs, "Lily! Oh! I can't tell you how happy I was when I found out you were awake!" Harriet watched the proceedings wide-eyed, then turned towards the woman's children, all of whom looked just as shocked as she did.

She managed to catch the eye of the youngest boy, who, like the rest of his family, was covered in red hair and freckles. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with large hands and feet, and a long nose. He gave her a pointed look that clearly said, "Adults are nutters." Harriet nodded in agreement, causing him to give her a small smile, which she returned.

"This must be your daughter!" The woman (Molly, Harriet remembered) said suddenly. She could tell that Molly had been about to say her name, and was extremely grateful that she had stopped short of it. Their group was already attracting enough attention, between their odd possessions, apparent propensity to sob, and flaming red hair (or, in Harriet and her father's case, untidy, jet-black manes).

"Oh, you look just like Fabian and Gideon said you did," she sighed, "so much like your parents! But look how much you've grown!"

"Thank-you?" she said, unsure of what other words would be appropriate in this situation.

"Molly, we were just explaining to her-"

"How to get onto the platform?" Molly guessed. Harriet's mum nodded and Molly turned to Harriet. "Don't worry, dear, its Ron's first time, too."

The young boy Harriet's age gave her a small wave. Harriet waved back.

"We'll show you how to do it," she assured Harriet. "Percy, why don't you go first?"

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten as her parents moved out of the way.

Harriet watched, careful not to blink in case she missed it. Unfortunately, a large group of people walked by, obstructing her view of him. When they cleared, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the Molly said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you  _tell_ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, making Sirius and her father laugh loudly and Remus tried to stifle his laughter. Off he went- and then, a moment later, he was gone. His brother followed him quickly after.

"All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten." Molly explained, just as her parents had. "Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Her mum and father both nodded in encouragement while Sirius handed her the cart with her things. She walked in front and stared at the wall once again.

Harriet began to walk towards it, doing her best to ignore the people who jostled her every which way. Despite the fact that she had seen three others do it with no problem, she couldn't help but be nervous about running into the barrier. What if she crashed into the wall? She'd be in so much trouble! Taking Molly's advice, Harriet began to run- it was coming closer- she was going to crash-

And suddenly she wasn't. She opened her eyes in surprise. She was no longer in King's Cross. Instead, a red steam engine was in the platform in front of her, which was also filled with wizards and witches of all ages. A sign overhead said  _Hogwarts' Express, eleven o'clock_. Harriet looked behind her and saw her family emerging from a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words  _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_ on it.

She had done it.

She felt her parents come up behind her and heard her father ask, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Harriet could only nod. It was overwhelming- kids her own age wandered around with their parents, pushing carts with schoolbooks and owls and the like. Harriet's mum took her cart and pushed it off down the platform.

"Lets go find a seat," she explained, and the rest followed. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh,  _Neville_ ," she heard the old woman sigh.

Eventually, fighting their way through the crowd, they found an empty carriage near the back of the train. She put Hedwig, her newly named owl, inside first, then returned to where her father and Sirius were lifting her trunk toward the train door. When they tried to lift it up the steps, however, Sirius let his end drop, and it landed painfully on his foot. He let out a colorful swear.

"Thats one I've never heard before." It was one of the red-haired twins she'd followed through the barrier.

"We'll have to remember that," agreed the other one. Sirius shrugged, completely unconcerned that he was being a "horrible influence," to quote Harriet's mum. He and her father finally managed to get the trunk inside with their help.

"Thanks," said her father, turning to the twins, but they had already vanished. Harriet giggled at her father's perplexed look, but squeaked suddenly when she was pulled into a massive embrace. She gasped as the wind was knocked out of her.

"Have a good time, okay?" asked her mother, holding her close. Harriet tried to nod, but found that her mother was holding her too tightly. She settled for a muffled, "I promise."

Her mother let her go, allowing Harriet to see the tears in her eyes. Harriet bit her lip, doing her best not to cry, as well, as her father, Sirius, and Remus all gave her large hugs and last-minute pieces of advice.

"Be good," muttered Remus, after her father had given her a hug. Harriet nodded.

"Don't listen to Remus," stage-whispered Sirius, as he wrapped his arms around her. "Make all the trouble you want, just don't get caught."

Harriet laughed, backing away from him, only to see that he, too, also had unshed tears in his eyes.

The train's whistle blew and Harriet's eyes widened as she realized she was almost late. She ran into the train and into the compartment where her suitcase and trunk were. Leaning out the window, she waved at her family, who smiled at her.

The train began to move and Harriet watched as they got smaller and smaller, still waving broadly. Sirius, when he was sure that nobody was looking, transformed and began chasing the train as Padfoot, barking loudly. He was the last thing she saw until the train rounded a corner.

She sighed and sat back in her seat, the true magnitude of her situation finally dawning her. After only a few months back with her real family, she was being sent off to a boarding school in...Harriet scowled, realizing she actually had no idea where Hogwarts was.

 _Why arre you ssssoo sssad pequinina?_  hissed Isaura from Harriet's ankle. Ever since Harriet had taken to wearing her wand holster on her wrist, Isaura's new favorite perch had become her ankle, as opposed to her arm.

"I'm gonna miss them," sighed Harriet, lifting up her pant leg to get a better view of her friend.

" _I thought youu wannted to go to the ssschool?"_

"I do!" Harriet protested, "I just-" A tap on the door cut her off. Harriet quickly let her pant leg drop, covering Isaura, who was hissing indignantly, just before the door to the compartment slid open. The red-haired boy from the platform was grinning sheepishly at her.

"Hi," he began, seemingly unsure of himself. "Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

"Not at all," said Harriet, motioning to the seat across from her, desperate for some sort of distraction from the aching pain in her chest.

"Thank," he sighed, relieved. He sat down and made himself comfortable. "I could sit with my brothers, but Fred and George like to play pranks- a lot of the times on me- and Percy is just," he made a face, " _Percy_."

Harriet laughed.

"I'm Ron, by the way," he continued, looking a bit more relaxed. "Ron Weasley."

"Nice to meet you," Harriet offered. "I'm Harriet Potter."

Ron's eyes widened. "So its true, then? I mean," he hesitated for a moment, "do you really have the-" He stopped short, trying to convey his meaning with just his eyes. Harriet, however, didn't understand.

"The what?" she asked, worried that she had forgotten something important for Hogwarts at home.

"The scar?" he whispered, saying it with a horrified look on his face, as though it were some forbidden word. Harriet, finding his reaction amusing and feeling relieved that it wasn't something more serious, laughed.

"Oh, yeah," she lifted up her bangs, showing Ron the lightening shaped scar on her forehead. Instead of gazing it with reverence, Ron just smiled.

"Wicked," he breathed, as Harriet let her hair fall.

"So how do you think our parents know each other?" Harriet asked curiously, wanting to make conversation. Ron shrugged.

"Don't know," he told her. "I think they met through my uncles, Fabian and Gideon. They died in the war against You-Know-Who." He colored a bit, although Harriet wasn't sure why.

"I'm sorry," Harriet grimaced, feeling guilty for bringing it up.

"Its okay," said Ron, in a tone that showed that it wasn't completely okay. "I was really little when they died. I don't even remember them."

"So all your family are wizards, then?" Harriet prodded, eager to draw the conversation away from the current topic.

"Er, yeah," nodded Ron, looking glad at the change of subject. "I think mum has a cousin who's an accountant, but we don't really talk about him much. I heard you went to live with Muggles, though, while your parents were, uh..." Ron paused, not really sure what to say, then abruptly asking, "What were they like?"

"They were awful," Harriet admitted. "Well, not all Muggles, but my aunt and uncle were."

"My dad is pretty mad about Muggles," noted Ron, making Harriet raise her eyebrows. "Its true!" he defended. "He works at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"What does he do there?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house." Ron explained to Harriet. "Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare — Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?" Harriet demanded, attempting to figure why a teapot would five somebody work for weeks.

"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic — it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office — and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up —"

"My dad mentioned memory charms for some of our neighbors the day my parents came to pick me up from my aunt and uncle," Harriet said, suddenly remembering.

"Why would they need memory charms?" Ron frowned. Harriet blushed.

"My Uncle started saying some really nasty things about my family," she said slowly, turning away. "I got a bit angry and Ikindasortablewhimup." She said this last part in a rush, trying to get it out as fast as she could. Ron seemed to understand her though and laughed.

"Like "Kaboom!" blew him up?" asked Ron.

"More like a balloon," Harriet amended. "He flew out the back-door."

"And you didn't get into trouble?" Ron asked, reverence coloring his tone. Harriet shook her head.

"My dad just seemed to think it was funny," Harriet explained, "and my mum never liked my uncle much anyways."

"If that happened to me," Ron said enviously, "My mom would have grounded me for life. I can't tell you how many times she's let Fred or George have it because one of their pranks."

"You've got three older brothers, then?" Harriet wondered, trying to figure out exactly how large Ron's family was.

"Five," he corrected, looking glum. "and Ginny, whose a year younger. But I'm the sixth go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first."

Harriet shifted a bit in her seat, uncomfortable with what Ron was saying.

"You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff — I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. Harriet looked a bit closer at the rat.

"Is he missing a toe?" she asked incredulously, trying to remember where she had heard that before.

Ron turned Scabbers over to get a better look. "Huh," he made a thoughtful noise. "Yeah. He was like that when Percy found him in the garden, I guess. He was hiding from the gnomes."

"Maybe he got into a street fight with some of them," suggested Harriet, mentally amazed at how easily Ron used the word "gnomes," as though it was completely normal. "and thats how he got all banged up."

"That would be the only useful thing he's done," grumbled Ron. Harriet was more focused on Isaura, whom she could feel uncurling from her leg.

 _"Lunnch,"_  she hissed. It took Harriet a moment to realize what she meant.

"No!" She wasn't quite sure who she was yelling at, Isaura, Ron, or Scabbers, but the shout had the desired effect. Scabbers jumped, barely avoiding Isaura, who had sprung in an attempt to catch him. Ron flattened himself against his seat, watching in pure terror as Isaura, who had landed in his lap, hissed in displeasure.

"Sorry," Harriet gasped, feeling immensely guilty. She took Isaura from Ron. "She's never done anything like that before."

"Thats a snake," stated Ron, looking a bit weak.

"Yea," Harriet said, but it didn't seem like Ron heard her.

"You've got a snake with you," he muttered, "and you're bringing it to Hogwarts."

"She was my first friend," Harriet said in defence of her snake. This, it seemed, brought him out of his stupor.

"Oh," he was quiet for moment. "Well," he said firmly, "now you've got two friends. Me and her. If you want," he added unsurely, the tips of his ears turning pink. Harriet felt her cheeks heat up, too. She held Isaura out to Ron.

"Ron, this is Isaura." Ron eyed her cautiously. "Isaura, this is our new friend, Ron."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Express- September 1, 1991**

"They aren't real frogs," Ron was explaining to Harriet, through a mouthful of licorice wand, "It's just a spell."

When they had begun talking, the train had been moving them out of London. Now they were out in the countryside. They both spent some time watching the hills and fields and cows pass by until a woman had come by with a candy cart. Harriet had gotten a little bit of everything, eager to share with her new friend, who was currently explaining some of the more interesting candies to her.

Harriet opened the small box, revealing a tiny, chocolate frog. Harriet barely had time to get a good lock at it when it bounced onto the window. Ron looked up.

"Watch it!" he cried, but Harriet was too shocked to do anything but stare as the frog climbed to the top of the window and, with what Harriet would have sworn was a wave, jumped out. Harriet turned back to Ron, who just shrugged.

"Thats rotten luck," he informed her, "they've only got one good jump in 'em anyways. Its the cards you want, though. Each box has got a card with a famous witch or wizard and you can start collecting them. I've got about five-hundred me-self."

Harriet took the card from the carton and looked at it curiously. "I've got Dumbledore," she told Ron cheerfully, recognizing his face on the card.

"I've got about seven of him," Ron said dismissively. "Mind if I take one of these? I may get Agrippa. Thanks," he said, once Harriet assured him it was okay.

"Has anybody seen a toad?" Harriet and Ron both jumped. Neither of them had heard the door to their compartment open. A girl their age was waiting impatiently from the door. She large front teeth and the bushiest brown hair Harriet had ever seen. "A boy named Neville has lost one."

"I haven't seen it," denied Ron. Harriet shook her head, taking a bite of a peppermint patty. The girl looked at the candy and wrinkled her nose.

"Thats not very healthy is it," she said in a bossy sort of voice. "I only eat sugar-free candy, but the cart didn't have any."

"Whats the fun of sugar-free candy," scoffed Ron.

"My parents are dentists," said the girl, in a tone of voice that indicated that that should have explained everything. It didn't.

"Dintests?" scowled Ron. "What the ruddy hell is a densit?"

"Dentists," corrected the now annoyed looking girl. "How do you  _not_  know what a  _dentist_  is?"

Harriet, recognizing that Ron came from one of the older pureblooded families in Britain, explained, "Dentists are like Muggle healers for teeth."

"Muggles are weird," he said in an amazed voice. The girl, who Harriet guessed was either half-blood or Muggle-born, glared at Ron so strongly that Harriet wondered why Ron did not recoil from her gaze.

Harriet, paying no mind to the bossy girl, looked over to Isaura and offered her a squirming, chocolate frog. Isaura quickly wrapped her body around it, slowly squeezing it, getting chocolate everywhere.

"Ew," Harriet muttered, wiping her hand on her jeans, while Ron laughed. The bushy-haired girl, who still hadn't left, eyed her snake with distaste.

"Are you sure your snake didn't eat Neville's toad?" Harriet shot her a sharp look and Ron looked highly offended, too.

"Isaura wouldn't do that!" Ron scowled. "Would she, Harriet?"

"No, she wouldn't," Harriet affirmed, neither of them feeling it would be prudent to bring up Isaura's earlier stint with Scabbers. The girl didn't look convinced. Instead, she flounced into the car and took a seat across from Harriet, next to Ron.

"Are snakes even allowed at Hogwarts?" she sniffed.

"Er..."

"Because in my acceptance letter, it only mentioned toads, owls, and cats. Of course, my acceptance letter  _was_  such a huge shock. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I found out, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard — I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said this all so fast that Harriet couldn't help but wonder how she managed to breathe. She looked at Ron and was relieved to see from the look on his face that he hadn't learnt all his course books by heart, either.

"Ron Weasley," was Ron's response, obviously so shocked that he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying.

"Harriet Potter," said Harriet, shooting her friend amused glances.

"Are you really?" asked the girl wide-eyed. Harriet wondered how famous she must be for even Muggle-borns to have heard of her.

"I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in  _Modern Magical History_ and  _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and  _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" asked Harriet.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, I'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

She got up and was about to leave the compartment, but turned back around at the last minute, just as she was walking through the door.

"You have dirt on your nose, by the way," she said to Ron in a condescending tone. She gestured to where it was. "Right there."

Ron took his hand and began to rub his nose slowly, still very confused by Hermione. She left and Ron turned to Harriet.

"Whatever house I'm in," he said surely, "I hope she's not in it." Harriet couldn't help but agree. Ron rubbed his nose again.

"Did I get it?" Harriet shook her head and Ron scowled.

"She was a know-it-all, but she was also right," sighed Harriet, getting up from her seat and reaching for her trunk. Ron grumbled, annoyed, but did the same."We really do need to get ready."

"I'll leave while you change," offered Ron, holding his robes. Harriet shot him a thankful smile, which quickly turned into a frown. The pale boy from Borgin and Burke's had just entered the compartment. He was flanked by two other boys. Both looked large, thickset, and extremely mean. One had short, bowl-cut hair, framing his beady-eyes. The other had long arms that reminded Harriet strongly of a gorilla.

"They say Harriet Potter's come to Hogwarts," the boy announced loudly. He turned and gave Harriet a glance over. For a moment, Harriet was worried that he had recognized her from Knockturn Alley, but relaxed when it didn't seem like he had.

"Its true then," he said. It wasn't a question. Harriet watched him warily. He smirked. "Thats Crabbe," he gestured to the first boy, then to the second, "and Goyle. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron didn't even try to hide his snort. Harriet didn't blame him for laughing, but Draco did, it seemed.

"Think my name is funny, do you?" He scowled. "No need to ask who you are. Red hair and hand-me-down clothes? You must be a  _Weasley._ " Ron flushed and Harriet glared when Draco turned back to her.

"You'll soon learn, Potter, that some wizarding families are better than others. I can help you there. You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort," He held out his hand to her, but she didn't take it, remembering him and his father in Knockturn Alley.

"I think I can figure out the wrong sort for myself thanks," she told him cooly.

"I'd watch myself if I were you, Potter," Draco said slowly, retracting his hand. "If you aren't too careful, you could go the same way as your parents. Or maybe like that blood-traitor they call a friend-"

"Take that back, Malfoy," Ron demanded, as both he and Harriet straightened. He made to grab Malfoy, but Harriet held him back, eyeing Crabbe and Goyle, who were several times larger than they were. She knew that fights with big people versus smaller people rarely ended well for the small people.

"I don't think I will," said Malfoy, looking curiously around the compartment. His eyes landed on the pile of candy on Harriet's seat. "In fact, I think I'll take some of your-AGHH!" he let out a scream because, as he had reached for his candy, Isaura, who had been hiding underneath the pile, had hissed loudly, making a fake lunge for his hands.

"You've got a snake in here?" a malicious smile overtook the glint of fear in his eyes. "Wait until I tell the professors! You'll be expelled for sure-"

"Actually," Hermione's bossy voice came from behind them, and Harriet watched amazed as the girl managed to squeeze her way into the compartment. It was getting rather crowded. "I asked the professors and they say that Harriet's snake  _is_  allowed at Hogwarts." Hermione eyed the five of them. "Fighting, however, is not permitted-"

"Fighting?" Harriet interrupted, speaking calmly. "Whose fighting? Malfoy and his friends here were just telling us that we would be arriving at Hogwarts soon, when Isaura spooked them."

Malfoy didn't say anything, just watched her curiously, trying to figure out what Harriet was up to.

"They were just leaving so Ron and I could change." Harriet raised an eyebrow in Malfoy's direction and he nodded slowly, understanding. She was giving him a way out this time, but next time (and Harriet had a feeling there would be a next time), she wouldn't be so forgiving towards him.

"C'mon, Crabbe, Goyle," he instructed. He lead them both out of the cart, leaving Harriet and Ron alone with Hermione. Judging by Ron's expression, he was having a hard time telling which was worse.

"How is it that we haven't even arrived at school and you two are already causing trouble?" Hermione demanded.

"Not that its any of your business, but they started it." Ron glared at Hermione. "What are you doing back here anyways?"

"I was just going to tell you what the professors said about your snake. You're welcome," Hermione answered, sounding as though they should be thankful for her consideration. Harriet didn't feel very grateful, though.

"Oh yeah," said Ron caustically, apparently agreeing with Harriet. "You snitched on us, thats what you did! What if the professors said that Harriet couldn't keep Isaura? Then what? We wouldn't have been so thankful, then."

"You shouldn't have broken the rules in the first place," scowled Hermione, leaving in a huff. Ron and Harriet exchanged looks, then Ron followed her out, giving Harriet a few minutes to change. Harriet did the same for him, then they both made themselves comfortable once again, looking out the windows in hopes to get their first glimpse of Hogwarts.

"So," he asked Harriet while they searched, "How do you know Malfoy?"

"Well, I don't know him, per say," Harriet shrugged, before explaining what had happened to her in Borgin and Burkes. Ron, after pressing for more details about Knockturn Alley, nodded.

"That sounds about right," referring to the Malfoy's selling something. "My dad's been working overtime at the Ministry with the raids, and he reckons the Malfoys have got a lot to hide, for sure. They were real supporters of You-Know-Who back in the day."

"My dad mentioned that some people followed Voldemort because-" She was cut off by Ron's gasp. "What?"

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" His freckles were standing out against his face. "I would'a thought that you of all people-!"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything," Harriet said quickly. "I just forgot! I bet I'm the worst in the class," she added, letting go of a fear that had been haunting her for the past few days. Ron shrugged it off.

"Lots of Muggle-borns learn quick enough," he assured her. "So what were you saying about You-Know-Who?"

"Oh," Harriet remembered, "just that a lot of people were forced to follow him, even though they didn't really want to." Ron looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Yeah, thats true," he conceded, "but my dad reckons that the Malfoys didn't need to much persuading, if you catch my drift. Are you sure you didn't see what he was selling?" Harriet went to deny it, when a voice cut her off.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Harriet blanched and snuck a look at Ron. He looked as nervous as she was. On an unspoken signal, they each began to gather up their share of the candy, before joining the crowd in the corridor.

Harriet found herself being pushed and shoved in every direction- she really was too small- and couldn't see a thing over everybody's shoulders.

Still, she felt it when the train started to slow down and let out a deep breath of relief as the crowd slowly began to move. When Harriet finally made it outside, Ron right behind her, she shivered.

Harriet heard a familiar voice call, ""Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harriet?"

Hagrid was suddenly smiling down at her and Ron. Harriet grinned and nodded. Hagrid gestured with a large hand. "Follow me, then. Any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Harriet had a bit of trouble as she and the other students tried to follow Hagrid down a narrow path. She almost fell onto Ron a few times, and he onto her. At one point, she accidentally stepped on the toes of Neville, the boy who had lost his toad. She muttered an apology and kept walking.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Harriet didn't think that it would have been possible to see anything in such dark light, but she was wrong.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Across the lake, perched atop a high mountain, was the castle. From the outside, she could see its many turrets and towers and windows sparkling like starlight.

Harriet nudged Ron excitedly as they headed towards the fleet of little boats that Hagrid had pointed out.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid warned, as Neville and Hermione followed Ron and Harriet. Once everybody was in, Hagrid gave the call.

"FORWARD!"

Harriet was speechless, along with most of the other students. Harriet had seen Hogwarts before, but only from the inside. Nothing compared to how it looked now. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

Hagrid yelled and interrupted Harriet's reverie. "Head's down!"

The first boats had reached the cliffs. At Hagrid's command, the students bent their heads down to avoid hitting a curtain of ivy. Even then, some of the leaves managed to get in Harriet's mouth, so she spit them out. By the time she had finished, they were in some sort of underground harbor.

The kids clambered out of the boats.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised his fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-September 1, 1991**

When the door opened, Harriet was faced with a tall, grey-haired witch. Her stern face was offset by her emerald green robes and Harriet recognized her immediately from her father's descriptions.

Professor McGonagall.

Hagrid left them and McGonagall lead them through a large door to the entrance hall. Harriet gasped at the sight of the massive staircase, no doubt leading up to the upper floors, and the torches that lined the walls.

Professor McGonagall turned to face them and began the speech her parents had told her about (apparently she gave it every year).

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Harriet felt as though Professor McGonagall was staring right at her, and she did her best to flatten her hair. She knew it would be hopeless, though. It never did as she was told. Unlike the Dursleys, her parents had no issues with her hair. Her mother had informed her that she it had been that way since she was a baby, when it was just a little tuft sticking out from the top of her head.

It wouldn't stick down then, her mum had said ruefully, and it certainly won't do so now.

Professor McGonagall's expression softened and Harriet wondered whether or not she was remember her parents' first day at Hogwarts.

"I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." McGonagall opened the door to to the dining hall, but it closed to quickly for Harriet to make anything out, other than bright lights and loud voices.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" she asked Ron, "My parents wouldn't tell me. They kept saying something about 'tradition.'"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

This did not make Harriet feel any better. Although her parents had done the best they could to teach her about magic, and she had been helping Uncle Severus regularly with her potions, she still knew very little, and there was no way she'd be able to pass a test.

Harriet felt her heart drop to her stomach. She had only been living with her parents for a few weeks. She didn't know any magic. How was she going to pass a test? And in front of the whole school, too!

Thankfully, all the others looked just as frightened as she did. Neville looked about ready to wet his pants.

Harriet tried to tell herself that this situation wasn't nearly as nerve-wracking was when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that she'd somehow turned her teacher's wig blue, but she couldn't help but feel that, in a few minutes, when Professor McGongall returned and lead them through the doors, Harriet would be lead to her doom.

_Suddenly, several students screamed, making Harriet jump. When she turned to see what the commotion was about, though, all she saw were the Hogwarts ghosts. Sirius and Remus had warned her about some of them:_

_"Stay away from the Bloody Baron," Sirius had said, "He'll report you if he catches you doing anything wrong."_

_"Don't mention Nick's head in front of him," Remus had added, "He's still touchy about it. But if he asks you about the Headless Hunt, tell him it's a shame they won't let him join."_

_"The Friar isn't bad," Sirius continued, "A pretty good sport, all around, although not if he catches you doing anything particularly mean spirited."_

_"The Grey Lady can seem a bit conceited," Remus pointed out, "But she's alright if you don't disturb her."_

_"Be careful of Peeves," Sirius warned, "He likes to cause trouble almost as much as he loves getting students in trouble."_

_"Does all of your advice to her have to involve how to not get caught pranking?"_

_"You said to only tell her the important stuff, Moony!"_

Harriet smiled to herself for a moment, remembering the resulting argument that had ensued between the two friends.

The door opened as Professor McGonagall returned. "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. Please form a line and follow me."

Harriet wasn't sure how she managed to get her legs moving, but she did, and when they walked through the doors, she had never been more grateful. She had gotten a few glimpses of Hogwarts, but she didn't think she ever could have imagined that the rest of it was such a strange and splendid place.

Instead of regular lamps, it was lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair over four long tables, filled with students. The tables were littered with goblets and plates, all gold. At the head of the room there was another long table with the professors. Harriet recognized several of the teachers both from having have met them and her parent's descriptions: Professor Quirrell, who still looked as though he were about to faint, Professor Binns, who was the only ghost at that table, Uncle Severus, who, sure enough, was glaring sourly at everything, and Professor Flitwick, who needed a special chair to reach the table. Hagrid was also there and he gave her a thumbs up.

Harriet heard Hermione whisper to another girl, "The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Mainly to see what she was talking about, Harriet looked up and was met with what looked to be the night sky: velvety black and dotted with stars. She couldn't believe that there was a ceiling at all.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. The entire hall had now gone silent. Harriet didn't understand why. The only thing on the stool was a thin, ragged, hat.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harriet thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too.

For a minute, nothing happened.

Then, it began to sing.

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song and bowed to each of the tables, but then everything grew quite again. Ron seemed relieved, but Harriet wasn't so sure.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding some parchment and announced that she would be calling names. "When you hear yours, you will step forward, sit on the stool, and put the hat on your head to be sorted."

She called the first name ("Abbot, Hannah"), and a girl came from the crowd and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and for a moment there was silence. Then:

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

As Hannah sat down to the applause of the Hufflepuff table, the next student was called. Then the next. And the next.

She did notice, though, that Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor (Ron was not happy) and that Neville was sorted into Gryffindor, too, but only after a long time. Malfoy, on the other hand, had barely placed the hat on his head when he was sorted into Slytherin.

"Potter, Harriet!" broke her out of her stupor and she stood frozen to the spot, suddenly feeling everybody's eyes on her. Ron, thankfully, gave her a light shove toward the hat, forcing her to move.

Harriet could already hear the whispers.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harriet Potter?"

Harriet managed to make it up to the stool and sat down. McGonagall plopped the hat on her head, obscuring her view of the roomful of people trying to look at her. Harriet waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harriet didn't say anything, honestly not knowing what to tell it.

"Too brash for Hufflepuff," the hat muttered, "and while you have a quick mind, you are definitely not studious enough for Ravenclaw. So Gryffindor or Slytherin?"

At the word "Slytherin," Harriet had a sudden mental image: her parents and Sirius and Remus lying on the floor of a destroyed room, dead. Voldemort was standing over them, but...he wasn't Voldemort anymore. He was her.

Harriet gripped her seat tighter and focused back on the hat, who had been too busy deliberating to pay attention to what she had been thinking.

"Yes," he agreed, "it better be Slytherin. You will do very well there."

He took a breath, getting ready to announce his decision to the hall, but Harriet stopped him with a firm, clear, thought.

"No."

The hat let out a cough, choking on his breath. He regained himself quickly though and, for a moment, he didn't say anything, incredulous.

"What?"

"Not Slytherin," Harriet thought firmly. "Anywhere but Slytherin."

The hat was quiet for another minute, before saying quietly. "I see."

"Are you sure?" he asked after another second. "You could be great, you know. Its all here, in your head. Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness, there is absolutely no doubt about that. Don't you want to be great?"

"Not if it means I have to stab people in the back to do it," Harriet responded after a moment.

"Well," sighed the hat, sounding a bit disappointed, "If you are sure- it better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harriet heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. When nobody clapped, Harriet grew worried. Then, the roar that filled the hall from the Gryffindor table was deafening.

Harriet sat down in a daze, opposite the ghost Harriet recognized earlier as Nearly-Headless-Nick. He patted her arm, giving Harriet the sudden, horrible feeling she'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

She looked back at the High Table again. Next to Quirrell, sat Uncle Severus, watching the proceedings with mild indifference, occasionally clapping politely. A few days before she had arrived at Hogwarts, he and her mum and sat down and briefly explained that Snape's role in the previous war called that he maintain a certain facade while at Hogwarts and that he might not be able to be as open about their friendship as he was while at home. Harriet had understood...sort of. Now, she caught his eye and he gave her a subtle nod. She smiled, relieved that he didn't resent her for not being in Slytherin.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean" became a Gryffindor, "Turpin, Lisa," a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. He sat on the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

Harriet crossed her fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harriet clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her. She smiled at him and he grinned back.

Harriet payed no attention to the rest of the sorting. She couldn't stop looking at the Great Hall with its burning candles, the students dressed in their robes, or the teachers looking proudly at their children. Looking at Ron, she saw the same deep, excitement burning in his eyes, and knew that he was thinking the exact same thing she was.

It didn't matter what happened next. They were here. They had made it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Potter Manor-September 2, 1991**

Lily, James, Remus and Sirius found themselves sitting quietly in the living room. It was a rather odd thing for them, as usually they were busy, but today they all happened to have the day off. None of them felt like doing anything, though. A dark mood had settled on the house. Harriet was gone.

James grimaced. He had always looked forward to seeing his child go to Hogwarts-seeing their face light up when they saw the Hogwarts Express, getting letters from them detailing their adventures around the castle. But it was different. He and Lily had so little time with Harriet before she had left. Two months was not enough time...

Of course, there was also the matter of the Philosopher's Stone, which Dumbledore had informed them he was currently guarding at Hogwarts. He assured them that the Stone was well protected and that quite a few enchantments had been placed on it, but, nevertheless, he still wanted several people he could trust from outside of school aware of its presence.

James had appreciated him telling them, but he still felt unbelievably uncomfortable knowing that his daughter was in the same building as the Stone (albeit, a large building).

"I hope she's okay," muttered Lily, looking up from the book she had been unsuccessfully trying to read. James rubbed his wife's shoulders.

"I'm sure she is absolutely fine, Lily!"

"Then why hasn't she written?" demanded Lily, frantic. James opened his mouth to reassure her, when a soft hoot caught their attention. Hedwig sat patiently on the windowsill, a note attached to her leg.

"See, Lils," beamed Sirius as James retrieved the letter, "nothing to worry about!"

"Open it!" urged Remus, not the James needed it. He was already eagerly tearing open the envelope. Lily leant forward excitedly.

 _"Dear Mum and Dad,"_ he read, _"(and Sirius and Remus, if you're reading this!),"_

"Smart girl," laughed Remus.

_"You were right! Hogwarts is fantastic"_

"I told you she was fine," said James smugly, looking at his wife, then continuing to read at her glare.

_"( except for Filch. Do you happen to know if his cat is possessed? Ron-from the Platform, remember?-thinks it is)!"_

_"_ Ron might be onto something," snorted Sirius.

_"Before you ask, I'll tell you that I was sorted into Gryffindor."_

The three men cheered loudly and clapped. Lily smiled proudly

_"Ron was, too,"_

_"_ I'm not surprised," James shrugged. "The Weasleys have been in Gryffindor for as long as I can remember."

_" but he sleeps in the Boys' Dorm, while I, well, don't, obviously."_

"Obviously," agreed Remus.

_"There are three other girls sleeping in the room with me. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil are nice enough, but they like to talk about girl things like clothes and makeup and boys and mushy-romance films that make me gag."_

_"_ I don't blame you, Harriet," laughed Sirius. Lily resisted the urge to remind him that he was talking to a letter and that Harriet was not even remotely close by.

 _"_ Thats my girl!" declared James.

_"On the other hand, Hermione Granger, the other girl, is really smart."_

_"_ That sounds familiar," quipped Remus, smirking in the direction of the red-haired witch in the room.

_I mean, its scary. She's apparently read and memorized all of our course books._

_"_ That can't be possible!" frowned Lily.

_" I didn't believe her before, but now that I've seen her in a few of our classes, I wouldn't be surprised. She's kinda bossy, though, so Ron and I don't hang out with her much._

_She practically lives at the library, anyways."_

_"_ Well," laughed Sirius, "that sounds even more familiar!" He quickly ducked to avoid being hit by the pillow Lily aimed at his head.

_"Classes are interesting. Professor Sprout is nice, but I don't think Herbology is my thing"_

_"_ Wasn't mine either," shrugged Remus, unconcerned.

_"(Neville Longbottom, another boy in Gryffindor, is really good at it though)."_

"Longbottom?" asked Lily, wide-eyed. "Oh, Neville! The last time I saw him, he was just a baby! It was right before Bellatrix-" Lily stopped short and bit her lip, trying desperately not to tear up.

James took a deep breath and began to read again.

_"Transfiguration is interesting,"_

The three Marauders smirked and shared looks with each other.

_"but its kind of boring trying to turn a matchstick into a needle."_

_"_ That was very boring," admitted James, "but don't worry, Harriet! It gets much more interesting!"

_"Hermione was the only one able to do it, something she isn't letting anybody forget._

_Professor Flitwick is really funny (not intentionally though), but History of Magic has to be the most boring class I've ever been in. Professor Binns was teaching while you were at school, right? Any tips for staying awake?"_

"No," Remus apologized, "sorry!"

_"Potions was great-even if Uncle Sev had to pretend he hated me."_

_"_ I'm glad she understood," sighed Lily, looking much more relieved. "He was worried about that." The Marauders exchanged looks.

_"When people say that he favors the Slytherins, they weren't kidding. He really seems to like Draco Malfoy (the boy I saw at Borgin and Burkes), but I can't see why. I don't think I've ever met anybody I hate more than Dudley, but Malfoy has to be it. He's a git."_

Sirius snorted.

_"I was really looking forward to Defense, but Professor Quirrell spends so much time stuttering that he never has time to teach us anything. Not to mention I always get head-aches in his class."_

_"_ You need to have Madam Pomfrey take a look," Lily said immediately.

_"I asked Ron if I should go to Madam Pomfrey, but he says its probably just the classroom."_

_"_ Well," hesitated James, still a bit unsure, "I suppose that could be it."

_"Its foggy and dirty and Professor's Quirrell's turban makes the entire place smell like the toaster did when Dudley put his pet fish in there"_

"How could anybody be that stupid?" gaped Remus.

_"(No. I don't know what he was thinking)."_

_"_ Nobody does," deadpanned Sirius, "because he doesn't think."

_"By the way, did you hear about Gringotts? Somebody managed to break in!"_

_"_ Yea," James let out a low whistle, "that was something. The Auror department still has no idea who was behind it."

"Dumbledore thinks it has something to do with the Stone," agreed Sirius, "but that information isn't something that can be shared with the Auror department at the moment. Dumbledore feels it would be prudent to wait until later." Sirius shrugged. "Its not very important at the moment. We should still be able to find the person responsible without that information."

_"I couldn't believe it. Especially not after seeing the vaults myself! Nothing was taken, though, which I thought was funny. Why break into an empty vault? Actually, the Goblins said that the vault had been emptied earlier that week-they day we were there (kinda coincidental, right?)._

_I was thinking about it, and I remember seeing Hagrid putting something small in his pocket the day he rescued me. He mentioned that he had been to Gringotts that day on a mission for Dumbledore."_

"Wasn't Hagrid the one who Dumbledore sent to retrieve the Stone from Gringotts?" asked James wearily, not really needing an answer.

"Harriet is too perceptive for her own good," Remus frowned. "You don't think she'll figure it out, do you?"

Sirius scoffed. "I doubt it. As smart as she is, Dumbledore has taken every precaution to keep that Stone a secret."

 _"I asked Ron if he thought they could be related, but he told me I was being silly and that if Dumbledore wanted something safe, there was no way_ ** _anybody_**   _could take it."_

 _"_ See," Sirius said.

_"I've been having a great time here, but I'm also kind of homesick."_

"Oh, Harriet! We miss you, too!" Lily agreed, deciding to ignore the fact that it was incredibly odd to be talking to a letter.

_"At first, I felt kind of odd saying that, but I mentioned it to Ron and he reckons that it makes sense since I haven't spent too much time with you since you woke up, which makes a lot of sense."_

"Thats a good point," James grumbled, "but it doesn't make us feel any better."

_"I have to go. Ron is calling. We need to get started on our History of Magic essay."_

"Bleh," Sirius made a face.

_"I miss you and I can't wait to see you at Christmas._

_Love,_

_Harriet_

_P.S. Ron says "Hi.""_

"That was a great letter," sighed Lily, disappointed that her communication with her daughter had been so short.

"It sounds like she's having a great time at Hogwarts," agreed James, feeling infinitely more relaxed than he had earlier.

"Too great a time," sighed Remus. "Honestly! I think I had a point! What if she starts to put things together?"

"Don't worry," soothed Lily. "When we send a reply, we can simply tell her not to worry too much about it and that the Aurors are working on finding whoever is responsible."

"You forget, Lily," retorted Remus, "She's yours and James' daughter! I hardly think that will satisfy her curiosity."

* * *

**Potter Manor, September 23, 1991**

"There is another letter!"

Those were the first words Sirius heard stepping out of the fireplace into James' house, his friend right behind him. He grinned at Lily.

"Brilliant! Have you read it yet?"

"Not yet," denied Lily. "I was waiting for you to get home. I've already Floo'd Remus. He'll be here-" The Floo roared and Remus emerged. "Now," laughed Lily.

The four made themselves comfortable in the kitchen, Lily setting up the food to cook, before Lily opened up the letter and began to read.

_"Dear Mum, Dad, Sirius, and Remus,_

_Thanks so much for your last letter! The chocolate was fantastic (although it didn't last very long)!"_

"I didn't think it would," chuckled James.

_"I have some rather interesting news. Its not anything bad (actually, its rather good) but I think I should give you fair warning that Dad will probably faint. So have the smelling salts out and ready to use."_

"Why would I faint?" pouted James.

"What are smelling salts?" asked Sirius, evidently confused.

"Muggles use the to wake-up people who are unconscious," explained Remus. He rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you took Muggle Studies?"

_"We had our first flying lesson yesterday, which was great."_

"Flying is fantastic," sighed James and Sirius simultaneously.

_"However, about a few minutes into it, Neville (remember, the one whose good at Herbology?) somehow managed to fall off his broom and break his wrist."_

"The poor boy!" fretted Lily. "I hope he is okay!"

" _While Madame Hooch took him to the hospital wing, Malfoy found Neville's Remembrall."_

"Why is this giving me a bad feeling?" Remus rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

_"Neville was always really nice to me and helped me in Herbology and_ **_never_  ** _stared at my scar, so I stood up for him and tried to get it back,"_

Lily and James both smiled largely, immensely proud of their daughter for standing up for her friend.

_"but Malfoy got onto his broom and flew into the air. I followed him."_

"Oh, Harriet!" Lily cried, worried. "Think things through! You don't even know how to fly!

_"It was_ **_wonderful!_  ** _Flying that day was the most amazing feeling in the world! And it was so_ **_easy!_ ** _"_

_"_ Or," muttered Sirius, slightly shocked, "maybe she is a complete natural!"

James was almost bouncing in excitement, feeling as though he could explode with pride. He thought he understood what Harriet had meant earlier about him fainting.

_"Malfoy didn't expect for me to follow him, though, and threw the ball. I turned my broom down into a dive and managed to catch it right before it hit the ground (Ron swore that I was within a foot of the ground, but I think he was exaggerating)."_

_"_ He better have been," Lily said sternly, once again forgetting she was talking to a letter. "We are going to have a serious discussion about not putting yourself in unnecessary danger when you get home!"

_"I was completely okay, but Professor McGonagall, who was watching from her office, was really mad."_

"I can imagine," said Sirius, sympathetically.

_"At first, I thought she was going to expel me,"_

"She wouldn't do that," denied Remus. "Not for a first offense."

_"but, instead, she introduced to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."_

James' eyes widened.

_"I made the team! I'm the new Seeker. No joke! Professor McGonagall managed to get Professor Dumbledore to bend the first year rule!"_

All eyes turned to James, who was openly staring at the letter. Feeling everybody's looks on him he scowled.

"I'm not going to faint!" He tried his hardest to look serious, but the grin overtaking his face was impossible to miss. Finally, he let loose a loud cheer and jumped from his position on a chair. This resulted in him landing rather painfully on the floor, but he was too happy to care.

"James, calm down," said Lily, watching her husband amused. Sirius, too, was getting into it, and now the two had begun to dance in circles. Remus gestured for Lily to keep reading, knowing that they were unlikely to stop anytime soon.

_"Apparently, she is very desperate to win this year's Quidditch Cup."_

"Or maybe my daughter is a brilliant flyer!" argued James.

_"I wasn't sure if I should agree at first,"_

"Of course you should!" said all three men simultaneously.

_"because I was worried that I would make a fool of myself,"_

_"_ You won't," was the general response.

"If McGonagall was willing to bend the first year rule for you," deduced Remus, "you have to be beyond brilliant."

James scowled. "McGonagall never bent the first year rule for me...which means Harriet must be a better flyer than I was in my first year...even though she's never been on a broom...Thats unbelievable!"

Sirius laughed.

"Honestly, James," chided Lily, "You're acting as though she's going to play professionally, as opposed to just on her house team!"

James' eyes obtained a dreamy quality to them, no doubt imagining his daughter playing professional Quidditch.

_"but Ron told me that Quidditch was a lot of fun"_

"It is!" Sirius agreed wholeheartedly.

_"and Fred and George (the twins), who are Beaters on the team, said that they would make sure that I didn't get "bloodied up too much" (as I'm sure you can imagine, that was incredibly reassuring)."_

"Oh, yes," said Lily dryly.

_"Then Hermione (she sort of came out of nowhere) showed me something really wicked: the Quidditch trophy from your seventh year! It had your (that is, Dad's and Sirius's) names and positions on it. You told me you played, but never that you won the Cup!"_

"You never asked, Prongslette," James chuckled.

_"Not to get sidetracked, but something else interesting happened on our way back to the common room. Ron and Hermione were arguing (as usual)"_

Both Remus and Sirius snickered in James' and Lily's direction.

_"so we weren't paying too much attention to where we were going and one of the stairs moved"._

"Those staircases," remembered Remus fondly.

_"We ended up in a part of the castle we had never been in before. When it became clear that we weren't going anywhere anytime soon, we decided to take a quick look around."_

Lily had to resist the urge to begin scolding, reminding herself that she would only be talking to a bit of parchment.

_"Well, I decided and Ron agreed. Hermione yelled that I had no sense of self-preservation and that Ron had no brains, adding that we were both sure to be expelled for good measure."_

"At least somebody has some common sense," muttered Lily, while the Marauders tried not to laugh too loudly.

_"Eventually, she gave up and followed us, though, so I guess that means she has no brains or self-preservation, either."_

"Never mind," sighed Lily, leaning backwards and crossing her arms.

_"We managed to find an unlocked door and opened it. I was hoping for something really spectacular, but all that was there was a mirror."_

Lily frowned. Something didn't feel right.

_"It was very confusing at first because every time Ron, Hermione, or I looked into it, we saw something different."_

"Interesting," mused Remus.

_"Ron saw himself as captain of the Quidditch team and head boy. Hermione saw herself with the the highest grades in the school. I saw you guys in the mirror, but there were also a bunch of other people who looked a lot like either mum or dad."_

_"_ Our parents?" guessed James. "Maybe grandparents and so on, too?"

_"That was when Dumbledore found us. He wasn't angry."_

"Dumbledore doesn't usually get mad about things like that," agreed Lily.

_"Instead, he explained that the mirror was called the Mirror of Erised and that it showed a person's deepest desires."_

"Of course!" Remus said, shaking his head at having forgotten. Lily frowned.

"I understand what Ron and Hermione wanted, but what about Harriet?"

Sirius took the letter and reread it. "Family, I think," he said finally, his voice sounding a bit choked. He handed the letter back to Lily, who began to speak shakily.

_"He also warned us that the Mirror was dangerous and that he was going to move it, so we should not go looking for it again."_

"That would be a, ah, good idea," agreed Remus, gathering his thoughts.

_"I then asked him what he saw in the Mirror. Looking back, it wasn't a good idea, since its a personal question,"_

"We need to teach her about tact," Lily scolded her husband, trying to burn the image of her daughter standing in front of the Mirror from her mind.

_"but at the time, Dumbledore told me he saw socks because people always buy him books during Christmas, but all he really wants is a way to keep his feet warm."_

"Lily," began James.

"Yes, love," she interrupted, "We can get him some socks for Christmas."

_"He let us go back to our common room, where Hermione got very huffy and told us that she was going to bed before we got her killed, "or worse, expelled!" Ron thinks that she needs to get her priorities straight, and I can't help but agree."_

"That wouldn't be a bad idea!" Sirius said.

_"So thats how I found myself siting on my bed, with the curtains closed to avoid Hermione's disapproving looks, writing you this letter to ask you permission to join the Quidditch team. Professor McGonagall is probably going to send you a letter, too."_

_"If you do say yes,"_

"Did she actually think that we'd say she couldn't?" James wondered.

_then Professor McGonagall says that I will also need a broom. I told her that I could use a school broom,_

"No you can't," Sirius and James said at the same time.

_"but she says that it wouldn't be good enough. Wood suggested either a Cleansweep or a Nimbus, since I'm Seeker, but I'll be happy with whatever you decide."_

"The new Nimbus is supposed to be top of the line," James noted. Lily gave him a careful look.

"I'm not sure if thats such a good idea," she said slowly, "its her first broom and all-" she saw her husband's pained look and sighed. "We'll talk about it later."

_"I love you and miss you and I'm counting the days until Christmas."_

_Harriet"_

_"P.S. Don't ask me how I know, but did Dumbledore tell you there is a giant three-headed dog in the castle?"_

"How in the world did she find out about that?" Remus gasped.

"It says not to ask," pointed out Sirius. Remus gave him a look.

_"Do you know why he's keeping it there? Hermione noticed that it was standing on a trap-door. Is it guarding something?"_

"I told you the warning wouldn't work!" accused Remus. Lily and James exchanged glances.

"We'll have to try again," agreed James.

* * *

**Halloween**

"Harriet did what?" Lily screeched, looking at Snape in shock. He didn't giver her an answer, merely raising an eyebrow, knowing that she and the three idiots who had christened themselves the Marauders had heard him perfectly well the first time.

"A troll?" Remus asked, wanting to be sure. "A fully grown mountain troll?"

Snape nodded, wondering how many times he would have to repeat himself tonight. Then, in hopes that it would spare him from talking, he pulled out a letter from his robe pockets.

"From your daughter," he sneered, "hopefully explaining tonight's events."

 _"Hello, everybody!"_ Remus began, after unfurling the parchment.

_"I'm guessing by now you had a visit or a letter from Professor Dumbledore or McGonagall or Uncle Sev explaining to you about the troll incident"_

"Yes," said Lily, looking a bit more pale than she normally did, "we did."

Seeing Severus looking at her, she quickly explained, "We sometimes talk to the letter. Its a habit we haven't been able to break." She blushed when her friend smirked.

_"(save the lectures, Uncle Sev already gave me one)."_

"Did you tell her that she needed to think things through before she-" began James.

"Yes," was Snape's response.

"What about how completely dangerous-" Remus brought up.

"Yes."

"Or if she does anything that stupid again she'll be back home-" Sirius started.

"Yes."

"Good job," laughed Lily.

_"I thought I would take a second to explain my side of things, which will probably be a bit different compared to what you heard."_

Snape's eyes locked on the letter. Now why would that be?

_"Somebody probably explained to you that Hermione, having read about Mountain Trolls, thought that she would be able to take on the troll herself and set off in search of it. Ron and I, worried about her safety, followed her and ultimately saved her life."_

"Thats more or less it," agreed Remus.

_"Thats not exactly what happened, though."_

"Why not?" Lily fretted.

_"I guess it all started in Charms class on Halloween, where Flitwick thought it would be a good idea to pair Hermione and Ron together to work on Levitation charms."_

"In what world does that make sense?" Remus demanded.

_"Ron had some trouble with it, so Hermione decided to try and help him. She didn't do it in a very good way though, ending up coming across as a bossy know-it-all (which she is). It lead to Ron insulting her after class and Hermione running off to cry to the girl's bathroom."_

"I hear wedding bells!" sang Sirius sarcastically.

_"I thought about going after her, but I didn't think she would appreciate comfort coming from Ron's best friend."_

James grinned in spite of himself. Lily, seeing his smile, asked him why he was so happy.

"Harriet has a best friend," he informed his wife cheerfully, making her smile as well.

_"At dinner that night, I was trying to convince Ron to go apologize to Hermione when Professor Quirrell ran in screaming about a troll."_

"Subtlety is not that man's forte," Snape mused.

_"We were all heading back to our dorms when I remembered that Hermione was in the girl's bathroom. Ron and I headed off to find her."_

"No, no, no!" was Lily's only response.

_"I know we should have gone to a professor, but I didn't think that the troll would be so far from the dungeons."_

"I suppose she has a point," Remus conceded.

_"We were wrong. You know what happened from there: Ron and I tried to distract the troll to give Hermione a chance to get away and, when that didn't work, I jumped on its back and got my wand up its nose."_

"We didn't know that part," James said, trying to get the image of his daughter dangling off a troll's back out of his mind.

_It tried to hit my with its club, so Ron (thinking desperately) tried the first spell he could think of, the Levitation charm. The club was lifted and up and fell on the troll's head, knocking it out! Ron, Hermione, and I were all perfectly fine, save for a few cuts and bruises._

"I hope they realize how luck they are," Remus pointed out, frowning.

_"The professors came in at that point and Hermione did something nobody was expecting. She_ **_lied._ ** _To a_ **_professor._  ** _She told the professors the story you heard and they believed her."_

Everybody looked at Snape, who scowled and said nothing.

_"In case you were wondering, Hermione is now one of mine and Ron's best friends."_

"Didn't they hate her several paragraphs ago?" laughed Sirius.

_"It might be a bit quick, but there are some things that you can't go through without becoming friends and taking down a fully grown Mountain Troll is one of them."_

_"_ Can't argue with that logic," Remus said, chuckling.

_Please don't ground me!_

_Love,_

_Harriet_

_P.S. Thank-you! Thank-you! Thank-you! Thank-you so much for the Nimbus 2000! Its fantastic!_

James smiled happily, glad that he had been able to convince his wife to let Harriet have the Nimbus. It was much better than the Cleansweep.

_I had my first Quidditch practice a few days ago and it went great. Wood threw golf-balls for me to catch. I didn't miss any and Wood was so excited he kept me playing until it got dark._

"She didn't miss any!" cheered a delighted James. Snape scowled thinking about the chances of Slytherin winning the Cup.

_I don't understand what was the big deal, but I didn't feel like raining on his parade. He was practically skipping on his way back to the castle._

_P.P.S. I noticed while Uncle Sev was lecturing me that his leg was hurt._

Almost immediately, Lily was up and fussing over her friend's hurt leg. He tried to tell her he was fine, but she gave him a glare so cold that he could do nothing more than sit patiently and let her look him over. While she did, Remus continued reading.

_Judging by the wound, it looked like he tried to get past the three-headed dog (which you still haven't told me anything about, by the way!). I asked him about it, but he told me not to worry._

"Were you?" frowned James.

"Yes," Snape answered. "Upon hearing that a troll was let in, I believed that somebody had let it in as a diversion to attempt to get to the Stone. Sadly, I did not anticipate having that much trouble with the dog and I scared whoever it was off."

Sirius grumbled, disappointed that Snape had been unable to catch the man responsible.

_Hermione thinks that he is trying to get past whatever the dog is guarding (and that would be...?) Does it have anything to do with the Gringotts break-in?_

"You're daughter," scowled Snape, "needs to learn to keep her nose out of other people's business!"

Both Lily and James grinned sheepishly.

* * *

**Potter Manor-November 29, 1991**

"Honestly, James," Lily laughed as she came down the stairs. Her hair was still damp from her shower and she had dressed herself comfortable in preparation for a few hours of relaxation. The image of her husband continuously looking at the window was what had greeted her when she had come home, and that was where she found him now.

"The letter will come when it comes!" she admonished.

"Its the first Hogwarts Quidditch game!" he told her excitedly, "I want to know how Harriet did! Whether or not Gryffindor won!"

"Are you doubting you're daughter's Quidditch skills?" she teased, pulling him away from the window and onto the couch.

"No!" he protested laughing. He smirked. "She's my daughter after all!"

"The poor girl!" both Lily and James turned and saw Remus's head in the fireplace. "Mind if I come through?"

"Not at all," Lily smiled. Remus entered the house, followed moments after by Sirius.

"I don't remember inviting you," chided Lily.

"It was implied," was Sirius's retort.

"With all the time you two spend here," chuckled James, "People would think that you do not have your own house!"

"We've been separated for ten years," Remus shrugged, unconcerned. "We have a lot of time to make up for."

An awkward silence descended on the room for a moment, broken by the sound of an owl.

"Hedwig's here!" exclaimed James, running to the window. Sirius looked at him, confused.

"Its the first Gryffindor Quidditch match today," explained Lily, "and James is very eager to see how Harriet did."

Sirius suddenly looked much more interested.

_"Dear Mum, Dad, Sirius, and Remus"_

"I love how she is able to predict who will be reading her letters," giggled Lily.

_"We had our first Quidditch game today! I was really nervous, but Ron and Hermione were really supportive. They even made me a sign that said "Potter for President!"_

"That was very nice of them," Sirius nodded. He turned to Remus. "Why didn't you ever make me a sign, Moony?"

"I was too busy commentating, Padfoot," Remus responded, "and I couldn't show a bias."

"Yea," laughed James, "you did that very well, didn't you? What do you call storming onto the field in fourth year during a game demanding that the Slytherin team be penalized for hitting me with a Bludger?"

"That was a completely fair call!" argued Remus. "You were nowhere near enough to their end of the field to score a goal! It was completely unprovoked!"

Lily cleared her throat pointedly, and James continued to read.

_"The game started out normally enough: Gryffindor made a few great scores, much to the annoyance of the Slytherins."_

Sirius and James high-fived each other.

_"Thats when they started playing really dirty (dirtier than they normally do), managing to make a few goals of their own."_

James, Remus, and Sirius booed. Lily looked at Remus, surprised.

"Remus!" she laughed. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. It's easy to get carried away!"

_I saw the Snitch, at one point,_

"Go, Harriet!" cheered Sirius.

_but one of the Slytherin Beaters hit a Bludger at me and I lost sight of it._

"He better have been penalized for that!" growled Sirius, sounding a lot like his animagus form. James glared at the parchment, as if it had been the one to hit his daughter with a Bludger.

_I'm still not sure what happened after that, but all I know is that my broom began acting very oddly._

"What?" asked Lily, startled. "Thats not possible!" She turned to her husband accusingly. "You told me the Nimbus had a large number of safety features! Thats the only reason I agreed to let Harriet have it!"

"It does!" James said, sounding as worried as his wife.

_It was bucking around and trying to kick me off it! It took a few minutes, but eventually, it stopped._

"Hm," hummed Remus thoughtfully.

_I got the following story from Ron and Hermione:_

**_"Hermione and I"_ **

"Why are you talking like that?" interrupted Lily, looking at her husband as though he had grown an extra head.

"Its Ron talking now," he told her, showing her the letter, "see?"

"And thats your 'Ron' voice?" teased Sirius.

James didn't deem this worth an answer.

**_"were watching the game when Hagrid noticed that Harriet's broom was acting funny. At first, I thought maybe the Bludger had done something to it-"_ **

_"Honestly, Ronald!"_

"Your Hermione voice is worse," quipped Remus, catching on to what was happening.

_" Did you actually think that? Use your brain! Brooms, especially a racing broom like the Nimbus, will be built to withstand the abuse enacted on them by things like Bludgers!"_

"Exactly," praised Remus. "It had to have been dark magic to mess with a broom that way." Seeing the parents's worried looks he said quickly, "Don't worry! I'm sure a professor noticed. and helped her"

**_"Well excuse me! I was too worried about my best friend falling to her death to think about that!"_ **

"Harriet and Ron seem close," pointed out Remus, hoping to bring the minds of James and Lily to happier matters. It worked, as they both smiled.

_"Are you implying that I wasn't worried?"_

"And Hermione," added Sirius.

**_"You know what? Let me tell my side of the story than you can tell yours! What was I saying? Oh yea, Harriet's broom was acting very odd. It went on for a few minutes, while Fred and George flew under her to try and be ready to catch her if she fell."_ **

Lily let out a breath, feeling a bit more relieved.

**_"Using my binoculars, Hermione noticed-_ **

_Its my turn now, Ron!_

**_Alright! Alright! Don't get you're knickers in a twist!_ **

_How charming."_

"They fight worse than you two did," laughed Sirius, partially at the argument and partially at James having to switch voices so quickly, looking at James and Lily, who blushed.

_"Anyways, I noticed through Ron's binoculars that Professor Snape was jinxing the broom"_

"No," denied Lily quickly. "Snape wouldn't do that!"

_No he wasn't! You don't know that for sure!_

_I recognize a jinx when I see one! He was muttering words and he wasn't blinking, since you have to maintain eye-contact!"_

"We have to hear his side of the story first," Lily snapped, as the Marauders grew angry. Sirius scowled at her.

"You heard what Hermione er..wrote!"

"There has to be another explanation!" Lily said in defense of her friend. She decided to try and use logic. "Even you can't deny that Snape is not an idiot. If he wanted to jinx Harriet, do you actually think he would be foolish enough to do it in front of dozens of professors and hundreds of students?"

They had no answer.

"We have to hear his side of the story," she repeated firmly. James backed down, knowing how stubborn his wife could be, and began to read.

_"So, while Ron stayed behind, I ran down the bleachers where Snape was with the other teachers. Then I...well, I_

**_She set fire to his robes! It was bloody brilliant!"_ **

"Yes," laughed Sirius, "it was!" Seeing Lily's frown, James nudged her a bit.

"Come on, Lily," he prodded, seeing her struggling to stop from smiling, "it was a bit funny!"

She shoved his shoulder, hard, when her smile became too pronounced to hide.

**_"Everybody started panicking and I think Professor Quirrell even wet himself!"_ **

"Poor man," Lily grimaced.

_"He did not! He did fall over, though. I felt bad about that. But the important part was that Harriet had control of her broom!"_

"Thank god," Lily said.

_"Well, not completely. She fell, but not very far."_

"What?" Lily squeaked.

**_"She still managed to catch the Snitch, though!"_ **

The Marauders began to cheer and whistle and catcall. Lily let them celebrate for a moment, before having them calm down and finish the reading the letter.

_"Catch it, Ron? She nearly swallowed it!"_

"Thats one way to do it," Sirius said, a bit surprised. James chuckled at the image of his daughter coughing up a Snitch.

**_So? We still won the game!_ **

_Yes, but-_

_"Okay! Thanks guys!"_ James said, relieved to finally be able to go back to reading in his normal voice. His throat had been getting tired.

_"So, thats the story, more or less. I know what it seems, but Uncle Sev would never do that!"_

Lily nodded to herself, glad that she would not have to convince another person to hear Severus out, even if she herself was unsure of his true motives.

_"I tried to talk to him after the game, but Hermione and Ron wouldn't let me out of their sight and dragged me down to Hagrid's hut for tea._

_While we were there, by the way, Hagrid let it spill that the three-headed dog was his! Apparently his name is Fluffy! Only Hagrid!"_

"Well," Remus said, trying to bring the letter to a positive close, "at least it seems like she has forgotten about the Stone and that she is satisfied with the explanation of the dog belonging to Hagrid."

"Fluffy!" Sirius shook his head. "Did you ever notice that, with Hagrid, the more harmless the name, the more dangerous the animal?"

_"One more month!_

_Love,_

_Harriet_ **_and Ron_ ** _and Hermione"_

"That was an insightful letter," Sirius commented, looking at Lily carefully. She threw her hands up in exasperation.

"I'm telling you, Severus didn't try and jinx Harriet! If you are so eager to be proved wrong, though, I can Floo call him right now!"

"Please do," Sirius challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. Lily huffed and quickly made her way to the fireplace, grabbing some Floo powder off the mantle as she did so. She threw it into the fireplace.

"Professor Snape's Office, Hogwarts," she ordered, before sticking her head inside. Sirius couldn't hear what was said, but she emerged a minute later, making room for Snape to follow. He didn't even have time to issue a greeting when Sirius verbally attacked him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, making a grab for him, only to be restrained by Remus. "Jinxing Harriet's broom!"

"Sirius!" Lily screeched, hitting him hard upside the head. He continued to scowl at Snape, who looked indifferent to the proceedings.

"I didn't jinx your precious goddaughter, Black."

"Then explain why Hermione saw you muttering words under your breath and not blinking!" Sirius retorted, a bit incoherently. Snape understood, though.

"Did you ever consider, mutt, that counter-jinxes also require eye-contact?"

Sirius blinked, realizing that, no, he had not considered it. Lily grinned triumphantly at Sirius's rather befuddled expression.

"But then why did the broom work properly after Hermione set your robes on fire?" Sirius tried, desperately.

"Granger did what?" Snape snapped.

"Nothing," Sirius said quickly. Lily, remembering something she had read in Harriet's letter, picked up the parchment and read through it.

"Here," she interrupted the glaring contest between the two men by shoving the letter under their noses. "Hermione wrote that, in the confusion, Quirrell was knocked over!"

"Did you know it was Quirrell jinxing the broom?" asked James. Snape denied it.

"I did not," he said slowly, thinking over his words. "However, as he is only new professor at the school this year, I had my suspicions about him. I will report this to the Headmaster, but I doubt anything can be done-"

"Nothing can be done?" repeated Remus, annoyed. "He tried to kill Harriet!"

"According to who?" challenged Snape. "The suspicions of an ex-Death Eater? Or the words of an eleven year old Muggle-born, who, as it happened, believed the formerly mentioned ex-Death Eater to be guilty?"

"Yes?" said Sirius, evidently confused, "er no?" Snape resisted the urge to make a comment about his lack of intelligence, instead settling for waiting for him to figure it out. Finally, realization dawned on face.

"Oh," he said sheepishly, "right."

"Then what do we do?" Lily interrupted.

"I'll warn the headmaster and keep a closer eye on Quirrell."

"That doesn't seem like much," griped James.

"Its the only other option we have." Snape responded. "Lets just hope that this little stunt has taught your daughter to be a bit more wary for her safety than she had been previously. The last thing we need is her making Quirrell's job easier."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday! Fanfiction.net was having problems with their login page, so I couldn't get to my stories until now.


	10. Remus's Very Old Aquaintances

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

" **Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, The Great Hall, Hogwarts- December 21, 1991**

The small scream pierced the hall as a sword cut through the air, showing no mercy. Pieces of rubble scattered around the table.

"Checkmate," said Ron triumphantly. Harriet scowled at him and moved to examine the chessboard. Sure enough, after Ron's gory destruction of her knight, her king was cornered with no way out. With an annoyed huff, she toppled it over, signifying defeat. Ron grabbed his spoils: the chocolate frog-the last of what her parents had sent her.

"Thats completely barbaric!" Ron and Harriet turned around in time to see Hermione entering the Great Hall, lugging a massive suitcase behind her. When she sat down next to them, she was out of breath and panting slightly.

"Thats Wizard's chess," Ron informed her cheerfully. At least, that was what Harriet assumed he was saying. It was difficult to understand him through the mouthful of chocolate. Hermione shook her head disgustedly.

"I see you've packed," Harriet offered, trying to diffuse the tension between her two bickering friends. Hermione gave a curt nod and turned to Ron.

"I see you haven't," she snapped at him. Harriet sighed and gave up, choosing, instead, to sit back and watch. Ron raised his chin defiantly.

"Change of plans," he informed her, "My parents are going to visit my brother Charlie. He's studying dragons there."

"So I guess there is no chance of asking your parents who Nicolas Flamel is, then," sighed Hermione, disappointed. Harriet was just happy that the two hadn't gotten into a shouting match, something that was relatively common for them.

"No," agreed Ron, then adding, more brightly, "You can ask your parents! That'd be safe!"

"Very safe," Hermione said drily, "as they're both dentists."

"Oh right," Ron grumbled dejectedly, taking the final bight of his chocolate frog. Hermione turned to Harriet and looked at her appraisingly. Harriet braced herself for what she knew was coming.

"You could ask-"

"No."

"You didn't even-"

"The answer is still no."

"You don't even know what I was going to say! Thats hardly fair!"

"I don't care. I'm not asking my parents about Nicolas Flamel."

"Why not?" demanded Hermione, obviously annoyed that Harriet had guessed her motives. It hadn't been difficult, since they had had this conversation several times before.

"I already told you," Harriet stressed, "They've been asking me for weeks to let this whole thing go. I don't want them to think that I'm not listening to them."

"But you aren't listening to them," Ron pointed out. Harriet threw a chess piece at Ron, who had found the one flaw in her almost perfect plan. The guilt had been eating at her for weeks, but, as usual, her curiosity had overridden all else.

"They don't know that," Harriet retorted, ignoring Hermione's slightly disapproving stare. "Besides, just because I can't ask them any questions, doesn't mean I can't do any digging. We have a massive library back home, with tons of books that aren't here at Hogwarts."

"I suppose that'd be okay," conceded Hermione, trying not to let on how much the idea of solving the mystery enticed her. "I just wish we had a way to communicate over break. I don't have an owl and Errol is too old to make long flights, so all we would have is Hedwig.

"That would take too long," Ron dismissed tactlessly.

"It would tire her out, too, Ronald," Hermione informed the red-head tersely. Ron let out a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, right," Ron muttered. He gave Harriet a careful look. "Don't tell her I said that, would ya?" Ron, Hermione, and Harriet had learned very early on that Hedwig had quite the attitude, and that she was unafraid of showing her opinion when displeased, usually with the use of teeth and talons.

"I won't," Harriet said half-heartedly, not really paying attention. She was thinking about the two small packages in her trunk, wrapped in sparkly gift-wrap and ready to be given to her friends, come Christmas day.

"I might have a solution," she said carefully, "if you wouldn't be opposed to exchanging Christmas gifts a bit early-"

"Why would be against that?" laughed Ron, eyes bright with the thought of presents. Hermione, too, looked very pleased.

"We have enough time before the train leaves in a few hours," she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. The three hurried quickly to the common room, which was overflowing with students saying their last goodbyes to each other around the Christmas tree.

Harriet and Hermione split up from Ron as they each headed to their respective dorms. Hermione stayed downstairs as she already had her luggage with her, along with her gifts. Harriet managed to find her trunk and, with some hasty digging, procured her gifts. Studiously ignoring Lavender and Parvati's weepy good-byes, she headed back downstairs. She exchanged looks with Ron, who had also just returned, and Hermione, as all three of them came to the realization that the common room was just too noisy.

"We could head up to the boys' dorm" Ron offered. "Its a lot quieter."

"Why is it that girls are allowed in the boys' dormitories, but not other other way around?" Harriet wondered aloud while the trio was hastily ascending the steps.

"Its an ancient rule that dates back to when Hogwarts was first built," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Apparently, girls were more trustworthy than boys. Anybody who has read  _Hogwarts, A History_ would know about it!"

"So only you?" Ron asked, sounding dead serious. Harriet laughed and Ron pushed open the door. The boys' dormitory, Harriet discovered, looked exactly like the girls' dormitory only instead of being filled with fashion magazines, cosmetics, and posters of the latest actor or rockstar, it was filled with sports magazines, Quidditch posters, and several pairs of underwear littering the floor.

Both Harriet and Hermione couldn't hide their snickers as Ron hastily grabbed his underpants and stuffed them under his pillows.

"Alright then," he said calmly, plopping lazily on his bed. He held out his two presents. "Who first?"

"Open mine!" Hermione said eagerly, giving both Harriet and Ron their gifts. Harriet raised an eyebrow when she felt the familiar shape of a book, but was pleasantly surprised when she opened it.

"Its a homework planner," Hermione explained, "each month shows a new Quidditch move for you to try and each day lists an important accomplishment for women in Quidditch."

"Thats brilliant, Hermione," Harriet thanked. She turned to Ron and laughed at his awestruck expression. He was flipping through a large book of pictures of Quidditch players. Their bright orange robes told her that they were the  _Chudley Cannons_ , Ron's favorite team.

"Thanks, Hermione," he breathed, flipping to another page. Hermione flushed, very pleased. Ron gave the book one last look before putting it down. He pulled out his two gifts, wrapped in plain brown paper and each a similar size and shape.

"I didn't really have any money to spend," he said, uncomfortable, "so they may not be as nice as-"

"Shut up, Ron."

"Honestly, Ron! Like we care!"

Harriet made quick work of her paper and, once it was gone, stared at the gift. It was a picture resting in a simple frame. The photo showed herself, Ron, and Hermione walking down one of the Hogwarts corridors, laughing at something one of them had said. Harriet grinned at Ron, who was looking a tad awkward.

"Where did you get the picture?" Harriet asked, not remembering anybody with a camera there.

"Its a spell," Ron explained, obviously glad that neither Harriet or Hermione were going to go all mushy on him. "Its a bit advanced, but I convinced Percy to help me. I told him I was trying to get extra-credit in Charms."

Harriet chuckled and Hermione tutted disapprovingly. Then, the two girls exchanged glances. Wearing identical smirks, they simultaneously threw themselves at Ron and began to sob hysterically.

"Oh, Ronald!" Hermione fake cried, "Its just so-so-so beautiful!"

"What did I do to deserve a friend like you?" exclaimed Harriet.

"Alright, alright alright!" Ron squawked. He squirmed and, after a few seconds, finally managed to get both girls off of him. He expected to have to console them or get them a tissue or something (his mother had made sure to teach him how to treat girls, telling him that he would thank her for it later), so he was shocked to see his two friends laughing and rolling on the floor.

"Your face," gasped Harriet through her laughter. Hermione was trying to catch her breath, holding her side.

"That wasn't funny!" he said indignantly. Both girls giggled.

"Yes it was," denied Hermione, and by the grin forming on Ron's face, he reluctantly had agreed.

"Open my presents now," Harriet instructed. "The train is leaving soon."

She handed them each their gifts, which they opened with the same relish as they had the other ones. Hermione was the first to finish, but instead of the smile Harriet had been hoping for, she wore a confused frown. Harriet's grin dropped.

"You don't like it?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh no, Harriet! Its lovely, I'm just a bit confused. You said our gifts would solve our communication problem."

"They will," affirmed Harriet. Ron raised an eyebrow and held up his gift.

"How is a mirror supposed to help us talk to each other?" Harriet laughed.

"They aren't normal mirrors. My dad and his three best friends made them in school so they could talk to each other in detention in stuff. Sirius gave them to me on my birthday and now I'm giving them to you. I've got one more in my trunk."

"Three-way mirrors," exclaimed Ron, "thats wicked!"

"It was originally four-way," Harriet agreed, "but the fourth one is...lost," Harriet finished lamely. If Ron and Hermione picked up on it, they didn't say anything. They were too busy playing with their reflections on the mirror.

"I can see you, Hermione," he said to Hermione's image on the mirror. Hermione nodded eagerly.

"I can see you, too!" Hermione laughed. She cocked her head to the side. "Harriet?"

"Yeah, Hermione?"

"You said your father and his friends made these mirrors."

"They did," Harriet said, not quite sure where Hermione was going.

"Well, that means they are one of a kind," Hermione frowned.

"Probably," Harriet shrugged, unconcerned.

"Are you sure you want to give them to us?" Hermione questioned. Ron looked up sharply. "I mean, you said Sirius gave them to you-"

"Sirius gave them to me so I could use them." Harriet interrupted. "Not so that they would sit in my trunk unused for the rest of my life. He knew that I'd be giving some of them away to my friends."

"Are you sure you want to give them to us, though?" Ron asked. "What if you change your mind or something?"

This time he was the one looking unsure, holding the mirror as though Harriet might change her mind and try to snatch it away. Harriet felt a warm feeling of affection swell in her heart when she looked at her two friends, both of whom were so concerned that she would regret her decision.

"I'm positive," Harriet said resolutely. "I'm not going to change my mind anytime soon."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Kings Cross- December 21, 1991**

Both Harriet and Hermione sat patiently on Harriet's trunk at King's Cross. Legs dangling over the sides, they watched as the other kids wandered around, looking for their parents. Some of the reunions were filled with tears and laughter, while others were a bit more quiet. Neither of them talked, just enjoying each other's company.

"Sugar Quill?" offered Hermione. Harriet took one.

"Thanks," she said, sucking on one. She smirked. "What happened to only sugar-free candy?"

"I did some research," Hermione said, "Apparently most brands of wizard candy are charmed against cavity and tooth-decay." Harriet nodded and took another suck, honestly not caring. To her, candy was candy and candy was good.

"Hey, Prongslette!" Harriet jumped, as she felt two arms wrap themselves around her and lift her up. Hermione, so startled, fell off her seat on the trunk. Harriet was too busy giving her father a hug to notice, though. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her parents until she stood there hugging them.

"Dad," she mumbled into his robes. She felt him chuckle and hug her closer.

"Miss me?" he joked. She looked up at him and nodded, making him smile.

"What about me?" came a softer voice from next to them.

"Mum!" Harriet abandoned her father and launched herself at her mother, who returned her hug with equal fervor. It felt so good to seem them again.

"So thats how it is then?" her father joked. "One minute you're all lovey-dovey and the next I'm being left for a pretty witch with great hair?" Harriet mother rolled her eyes.

"Mum can cook," Harriet pointed out and her father laughed and nodded. "Are Moony and Padfoot here?"

"No," James admitted. "Neither could get the day off. They'll be at the house later for your 'Welcome Home!' dinner, though." Harriet didn't even try to convince them that she didn't need a welcome home dinner, but she knew that it would be pointless. She had inherited her stubborn streak from both her parents.

Harriet looked and noticed Hermione picking herself up off the ground.

"Hermione?" Harriet asked, offering her friend her hand to help pull her up. "What are you doing on the ground?"

"I fell over," she said, obviously annoyed, although she took Harriet's hand anyways. She managed to stand up and straightened up her robes.

"Are you okay?" Harriet asked as Hermione brushed herself off. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Hermione assured, then she grimaced. "Just my pride."

"Well, you have plenty of that," Harriet dismissed, waving her hand, "it probably cushioned the blow. You'll be fine." Hermione hit Harriet upside the head with her box of Sugar Quills. It may have been almost empty, but it still was not a pleasant sensation.

"Ow," she hissed, "Okay, um...Sorry. Just kidding"

"You better have been," Hermione told her loftily. Harriet, still rubbing the sore spot on her head waved Hermione towards her parents, who had been watching the proceedings, amused. Hermione straightened and waited patiently for Harriet to introduce her.

"Mum, Dad," she said, "this is Hermione. Hermione these are my parents."

"Its a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said simply, offering them her hand. Harriet resisted the urge to laugh as each of her parents introduced herself. Hermione was acting as if this was a business agreement. Harriet's mum smiled.

"Are your parents coming to pick you up, Hermione?" Hermione nodded and began scanning the crowd, which had already begun to thin out.

"They should be here somewhere-" Hermione muttered, before her eyes lit up. "There they are!" She beamed. She grabbed her luggage. "It was a pleasure meeting you!"

"It was nice to meet you, too," her father said. Hermione turned to Harriet and grabbed her sleeve, pulling.

"I want to introduce you to them," Hermione ordered and Harriet laughingly agreed, letting Hermione pull her along. Hermione's parents were looking a bit out of place in the station, obviously still uncomfortable with the idea of magic. They relaxed considerably at the sight of their daughter.

Harriet stood to the side politely while Hermione greeted her parents with a warm hug for each of them. When they had finished, Hermione moved to her side and pushed Harriet forward, eagerly.

"Mum, Dad," she said smiling, "this is my friend Harriet, the one I told you about."

"Hello," Harriet said unsurely. What exactly had Hermione told her parents about her? She gave them a small smile. "Its nice to-OOMPH!"

Harriet found herself being held hard by Hermione's mum, who was thanking her over and over and over again. Harriet tried to squirm out of her grasp, but couldn't do it. She felt herself getting a bit lightheaded. Hermione understood her plight, though.

"Mum! Let her go! You're choking her, Mum!" Hermione's mum released her and Harriet was able to stumble backwards, gasping for breath. Hermione's mother looked sheepish, but Harriet waved away her concern.

"I'm fine," she wheezed. She took another deep breath. "What are you thanking me for?"

"You saved Hermione from a troll," Hermione's father told her, saying the word troll slowly, as if learning another language and not yet familiar with the terminology. Harriet shifted her weight on her feet.

"It was nothing?" She posed, but when it was clear Hermione's parents were not going to take that as a really answer, she tried a different tactic. "Well," she shrugged, "it wasn't nothing, but Ron and Hermione and I became friends afterwards, so it was worth it."

Hermione's parents grinned at this, as did Hermione. Harriet turned around and saw her mother and father waiting patiently for her. "I need to go.."

"Of course, dear," Hermione's mum said, her brown eyes (the same as Hermione's) looking warmly at her.

"Happy holidays!" added her father, while Hermione gave her one last hug goodbye. She waved to them and then jogged over to her parents. She smiled when she reached them, slightly out of breath.

"Ready?" posed her father. Harriet nodded.

"Yeah," she answered, "lets go home."

* * *

**Potter Manor-December 21, 1991**

With a satisfied nod, Harriet finished putting everything away in her room. Isaura was watching uninterested from her small tree. Hedwig had stayed behind at Hogwarts. Harriet turned to her snake.

"Its good to be home, isn't it?" asked Harriet. Isaura nodded and curled up tighter around the tree, apparently tired from the long train ride and not in the mood to talk. Harriet getting the message, left her room, closing the door quietly behind her. She made her way to the kitchen, where her mother and father were both drinking tea, the cooking supplies behind them beginning to make dinner.

For some reason, she stopped outside the doorway, listening in to what they were saying. She wasn't sure what made her do it; maybe it was a delayed reaction from living with the Dursleys, where she would often check her Uncle's mood before entering a room.

"Are you sure its a good idea to have them over, Lily?" her father was asking. Her mother sighed and then shrugged.

"I don't know. I just feel bad that they are spending the holidays all alone." Her father frowned.

"Yes, but if Harriet-"

"Harriet hasn't brought up the matter in weeks! I doubt she will make the connection."

Harriet frowned and decided that now might be a good moment to break in. Taking a few steps back from the door, she stomped loudly into the kitchen. Her parents, she noted, looked a bit too casual. What were they keeping from her?

"Tea?" Harriet's mum offered. Harriet nodded her consent and cheerfully hopped up on a stool. She looked critically at the food being prepared for dinner.

"Isn't that a lot of food?" Harriet asked. Lily looked up from pouring sugar into the tea.

"It is," she laughed, "but remember, Sirius and Remus are coming. And a few friends of Remus have been invited as well."

"Who?" Harriet asked, bewildered. Remus was really nice, so it was no surprise to her that he had friends, but she hadn't heard of any save Sirius and her dad until just now.

"Actually," James explained, letting Harriet sip her still hot tea, "its his boss and his boss's wife who will be joining us. They are very old and don't have any family, so we thought they might like some company over the holidays."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"Have you finished unpacking, love?"

"Yeah," Harriet assured, "Isaura is upstairs taking a nap."

"Hogwarts life too busy for her?" her father laughed. Harriet shrugged.

"She spent a lot of time with Hagrid. He liked her a lot." She snorted. "I will never understand Hagrid's love of dangerous animals."

"Your mother and I meant to talk to you about that," her father began slowly. Harriet grimaced. "We understand your curiosity, Harriet, but you can't continue to poke around the castle. It can be dangerous." He didn't called her Prongslette, Harriet noted, so she knew he was serious. She nodded fervently.

"I know," she said quickly. "I didn't go looking for the dog, though, I promise!"

"So how did you manage to stumble upon it then?" her mother posed. Harriet shifted uncomfortably and, for the first time that Harriet's parents had seen, she actually looked a bit guilty.

"It was an accident," she said carefully, "just a misunderstanding between Malfoy and me."

"Malfoy and I," corrected her mother idly.

"Not you," Harriet denied, "me." Her mum gave her a look and she smiled sheepishly. It had been too hard to resist.

"Don't sass your mother," her mother teased. Harriet made her eyes wide and innocent, resisting the urge to laugh.

"I could  _never_  sass you, mum," Harriet promised, making her father laugh out loud. While they laughed and joked, Harriet thanked her luck stars that she had managed to draw their attention away from her (almost) midnight duel with Malfoy.

It was a little bit later when Remus and Sirius finally showed up. Sirius was the one who showed up first, sweeping her into a hug so tight that, for the second time that day, she actually felt herself choking.

"Sirius!" she gasped. He laughed and set her down, as if her dying from lack of oxygen was something amusing to him. She glared at him.

"I missed you, Prongslette," he smiled, apparently assuming that she wasn't really angry with him. He was right, since when her glare softened and she laughed, going in for another (less tight) hug.

"I missed you, too, Sirius," she told him meaningfully.

"What? No hug for me?" a voice demanded. Harriet looked and realized that Remus had just entered the kitchen. She threw herself at him.

"Remus," she exclaimed. He, like Sirius, laughed and gave her a large hug. It felt good to be back home, she decided, even if she loved Hogwarts. "Are your bosses coming soon, Uncle Moony?"

"Yes," he assured her, letting her go.

"Why don't you go set the table before they get here, love?" her mum suggested. Harriet nodded, finally glad to have something to do while she waited. She threw a table cloth over the table and set up the plates and cups. She was just putting the silverware down when she heard some voices from the living room: Remus's bosses had arrived.

"Harriet?" Harriet looked at the doorway, where Remus was leading two of the oldest people she had ever seen into the dining room. She put the silverware down almost immediately, moving to pull two chairs out for them. The old man gave her a soft smile.

"Nicolas," Remus introduced, "Perenelle, this is Harriet, Lily and James's daughter. Harriet, these are the people who own the bookstore where I work, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel."

It took all of Harriet's not-so-considerable experience to not show how she was feeling back then.  _I guess I know what mum and dad were hiding from me,_  she realized, as she shook the hand of the person she and her friends had been looking for for weeks, now.

"Its a pleasure to meet you," Harriet told them, trying not to sound too giddy. Now, she rationalized, all she needed to do is find out how they know Dumbledore and enough about them to give Hermione something to go on in the library. "Let me finish setting up the table."

They both smiled politely as Harriet bustled about. Remus and Sirius had taken their seats, while Harriet's father helped his wife in the kitchen. Harriet had just sat down when they brought dinner out. Harriet felt her stomach clench in anticipation. As good as Hogwarts's food was, nothing beat her mum's cooking.

Conversation stalled for a bit as everybody enjoyed the food. It was Mr. Flamel who finally broke it.

"Well, Lily," he told her, his voice incredibly raspy but still undeniably cheerful, "I must say that Remus was not exaggerating about your cooking. The food is remarkable."

"Thank-you," Harriet's mum said, looking very pleased. Harriet couldn't help but nod in fervent agreement.

"I really missed your cooking, mum," she admitted. Mrs. Flamel examined Harriet curiously.

"Remus said it was your first year at Hogwarts, dear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Flamel," Harriet said politely. Mr. Flamel smiled at her.

"And how are you liking it?" Harriet couldn't stop the grin that overtook her face.

"Its fantastic!" she beamed. Mr. Flamel chuckled appreciatively.

"I can imagine," he agreed. "Especially with Albus as headmaster." Harriet saw an opportunity and took it. Making herself look as innocent as possible, she asked, "You know Professor Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes," said Mr. Flamel, taking a moment to lift a shaking hand to wipe his mouth with a napkin. "He was alchemy partner for quite some time. I've known him since he was very young."

"Dumbledore was  _young?"_ Harriet had really meant to ask what Mr. Flamel was doing owning a bookstore if he was an alchemist, but for some reason, she was unable to stop herself from asking that. It was such an  _odd_  image. Harriet's parents both laughed and Sirius, who had been taking a sip of wine, almost choked. Mr. Flamel just smiled.

"Yes, well, this was a very long time ago," he explained. He grabbed his wife's hand. "I've long since retired. Perenelle and I much more content with our bookstore." Harriet smiled, as he had also answered her second question.

"Too much action involved in alchemy," Mr. Flamel added with a wink. Harriet giggled and conversation moved onto slightly more neutral topics.

It was very late when the Flamels left, with Remus escorting them to their home. Sirius stayed behind for a bit, just joking with Harriet's dad and making her laugh, but, eventually, he left as well. Harriet was finally told by her parents to head to bed.

She changed and made herself comfortable under the covers. She didn't go to sleep right away, however. She stayed up, staring at her ceiling, head swimming with what she had figured out. Granted, it wasn't much, but the knowledge that Nicolas Flamel was an alchemist who had worked with Dumbledore would give Hermione plenty to go one when she began looking in the libary-

 _Hermione! Ron!_  She sat up straight. She had forgotten to tell them what she knew. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and eyed the door leading to the hallway. It was well past her bedtime, but she honestly didn't know if she had the self-control needed to wait until tomorrow to tell her friends. Nor did she want them to get mad because she hadn't told them right away.

She crept carefully from bed, doing her best not to wake up Isaura, and opened up her trunk, rummaging around until she found her mirror. Laying back down in bed, she held it up to her face.

"Hermione?" she hissed as loudly as she dared, "Ron? Are you there?"

She heard some rustling on the other side of the mirror. Ron's face appeared first, slightly wrinkled from sleeping. He looked exceptionally drowsy. He scowled.

"Harriet? What are you thinking? I was sleeping?"

"So was I!" it was Hermione who appeared now, rubbing the sleep out her eyes. She also looked very annoyed. Harriet gave them an apologetic smile.

"I know," she whispered, keeping an ear toward the hallways in case either of her parents thought to check on her. "but you won't believe who we had over today for dinner!"

Judging by Hermione's and Ron's blank expression, they had no clue. "Nicolas Flamel and his wife!"

"What?"

"Are you serious?"

Hermione and Ron forgot to keep their voices down. Harriet mentally cursed her bad luck as she saw the hall light turn on and heard footsteps in the hall. Ignoring her friends protests and calls for more information, she stuffed her mirror underneath her bed. She pulled her covers tight around her and closed her eyes just before her bedroom door cracked open.

"Harriet?" her father's voice asked. Harriet made sure not to move.

"I told you she wasn't awake, James," her mother tutted. Harriet heard her move closer to the bed and felt her stroke her hair a few seconds later. She leant into it a bit, making her mother chuckle.

"I thought I heard something," her father protested, before admitting, "I guess I was wrong."

"Mhm," laughed her mother softly, placing a kiss on Harriet's head. Harriet heard more soft footfalls followed by the door closing. The lights in the hall went off. Harriet waited another moment before she pulled the mirror out.

"Sorry," she muttered to her impatient friends, "my parents came in."

"I really don't like all this secrecy," Hermione fretted. Harriet sighed and shifted around a bit on her bed.

"Neither do I," she admitted. "But something is going on at Hogwarts and I am determined to find out what it is!" She hissed. "Now, do you want to hear about Nicolas Flamel's visit, or not?"

Her friends listened raptly as she explained the visit and what Flamel had let slip to her over the course of the dinner.

"So Flamel was an alchemist?" surmised Ron. "And he gave it up to own a bookstore?"

"No wonder we haven't been able to find anything," sighed an exasperated Hermione. "We've been looking in the wrong section all this time! If Flamel worked with Dumbledore many many years ago, I should be able to figure out around what time that happened," she was muttering to herself at this point, "and then examine his other achievements and deduce which is the most probably for Dumbledore to be protecting."

"You do that, Hermione," Ron told her, letting out a huge yawn. "I'm going to bed."

Harriet's own yawn followed. "Yeah," she agreed, "its late. I'm sorry for waking you guys up. I just thought you might want to know. I didn't want you to get mad because I didn't tell you right away-"

"Harriet," Harriet got the feeling that Hermione would have sounded more exasperated had she not been so tired, "we aren't going to get mad at you if you don't tell us a piece of news right away. You can wait until its convenient for you."

"And us, mate," Ron said sleepily. "Like, not at three in the morning."

"I'll let you guys get to bed, then," Harriet said softly. "Good-night."

"Good-night, Harriet."

"'Night, mate." The mirrors went dark and Harriet was left alone in her room.

"Love you guys," she whispered, before putting the mirror back under her bed and finally drifting off to sleep.

Her dreams were odd: she was playing in the yard with her family and Ron and Hermione. Slowly they faded away until she was rolling around the floor with Padfoot. He shifted, though, into Fluffy, who advanced at her with his teeth bared. She tried to run away, but something had wrapped around her legs. Quirrell's turban was constricting her legs, moving upwards, until it was completely smothering her.

Harriet jerked awake and took a few deep breaths before falling back asleep. When she woke up the next morning, she couldn't remember any of it.

* * *

**Potter Manor-Christmas Day, 1991**

Harriet had been in the middle of a surprisingly deep sleep when she felt something wet on her face. She tried swatting it away, but it didn't work. It almost felt as though it were raining, or maybe if something was licking her-

"Sirius!" she cried, sitting up and shoving him off of her. She managed to find her glasses and put them on. She glared crossly at him, annoyed. He just continued to sit on her bed, his tail wagging excitedly. "Its early," she grumbled, "what are you even doing up?"

He didn't say anything (obviously he couldn't in his dog form), but grabbed the wrist of her pajamas and pulled hard. Getting the hint, she climbed out of bed, shivering a bit when she felt the cold floor hit her bare feet. She stopped along the way to get Isaura, who was also displeased at being woken up so early, and followed Sirius downstairs. Because she was going much slower than he was, he disappeared around the corner before she even made the bottom of the stairs.

When she made it into the living room, she found that he had changed back into his human form and that he was waiting for her with her parents and Remus. Harriet's eyes widened as she took in the sight: underneath their large Christmas tree was the largest pile of presents Harriet had ever seen. More than Dudley had ever dreamed of.

"Are you just going to stand there?" laughed Sirius. "Or are going to open your presents?"

"I have presents?" Harriet asked, wide-eyed. James frowned.

"What were you expecting? Turnips?"

Harriet didn't say anything, simply sitting down in daze on the floor next to the tree. If she had thought her birthday was full of presents, it had nothing on Christmas. She lost count of the presents from her parents, Sirius, and even Remus, but she got gifts from other people, too.

Hagrid gave her a small flute. When she blew on it, it sounded like an owl. Snape, in an obvious attempt to keep her from getting into any more meetings with angry trolls, got her a book called  _Looking Before You Leap: Thinking Through Hair-Brained Schemes Before Actually Going Through With Them._ The author, Gabriel Temerarious, had died in a tragic cliff-diving accident, leaving his wife to publish his book.

"I thought Slytherins were supposed to be subtle," she asked her mum, referring to Uncle Sev's rather obvious motives behind his gift. Her mum just laughed.

Another surprising gift was from the Dursleys'. Harriet took the gift, shocked that they had bothered to get her anything. Apparently her little "accident" the last time she had seen them had scared them.

"A fifty-pence piece?" Remus asked skeptically. Sirius raised an eyebrow as Harriet snorted.

"That was generous of them," she said dryly. She held it in her hand for a second, not really sure what she should do with it, before adding it to the rest of her presents. "I'll give it to Ron," she shrugged, remembering his wide-eyed look at some of the Muggle things she had shown him. "I'm sure he'll get a kick out of it."

Speaking of the Weasleys, Molly Weasley had given Harriet a large box of homemade fudge, which Harriet tasted and found to be very good. She also received a homemade, emerald green sweater. Slipping it on, she smiled, as it was soft and warm and just the right size for her.

Harriet wasn't the only one who received presents, though. Harriet loved watching her family open their presents almost as much as she loved opening her own. Harriet's favorite moment was when her father opened up Sirius's present. He opened the small box and it released a cloud of black powder. When it cleared, his entire face was covered in feather-spitting boils.

He stood shocked for a moment, not really sure what to do, while everybody else laughed and Lily made sure to snap a picture. After a few seconds, her father got up and charged after Sirius, chasing him around the living room. Remus, wanting to join in on the fun, stuck his foot out in order to trip his friend, but it backfired on him. Sirius tripped and fell on Remus, with James landing on top of him.

The three of them toppled over the armchair Remus was sitting on and landed in a tangled and swearing heap on the floor. Harriet's mum normally would have chewed them out for using foul language in front of Harriet, but she was also laughing too hard to talk.

Things finally settled down a bit after that. At least, until Sirius suggested that they all go outside after lunch and have a snowball fight. Uncle Severus, who had arrived just in time for his suggestion, was unwillingly dragged in on it.

Everybody put on their warmest clothes and trekked outside, ready to fight. The teams ended up being the Marauders versus Harriet, Lily and Uncle Severus. While the former team relied heavily on simply pummeling their opponents with snow, Lily and Harriet and Snape relied a bit more on stealth and strategy, thus winning the hours-long match.

Sirius and Harriet's father entered the house grumbling and annoyed, but when the smelled Harriet's mum's food a little while later, they instantly forgot about all their anger. Dinner was fantastic: A fat, roast turkey; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce.

As everybody laughed as Remus described a particularly amusing prank pulled by he and his friends in their Hogwarts days over Christmas break, Harriet found herself hard-pressed to stop smiling.

Her Christmases with the Dursleys were never exactly fun (her favorite present had been a tin of dog-biscuits from her Aunt Marge) and she had spent many nights sitting under the Christmas tree, just watching the light twinkle and wishing that one day she would have a better Christmas.

But not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined that Christmas with her real family would be this great.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts- January 2, 1992**

Harriet had arrived at Hogwarts the day before term started, along with most of the other students. Hermione was very eager to begin looking for Nicolas Flamel. Within minutes of entering the library, Hermione found the right book.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this before," she complained to Ron and Harriet as she pulled a particularly thick book from a shelf. She lead them to a table, where she began to flip through it . "I checked this out a few weeks ago for a bit of light reading!"

Ron eyed the book skeptically. "That's  _light?"_ Hermione scowled, but kept flipping.

"Here it is!" she said triumphantly. Ron and Harriet crowded around for a closer look. "Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's stone!" Ron and Harriet exchanged confused glances, letting out a simultaneous, "Huh?"

"Don't you two read?" Hermione asked tartly. Ron went to give a retort, but Harriet quickly shushed them both. Madam Pince was giving them both shrewd looks over her desk. When she finally looked away, Hermione said, "Look here!"

She read: "The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.  There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life running a used book store, with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)."

"That explains everything!" said Harriet, just a little too loudly. Madam Pince snapped.

"Alright, alright!" she hissed, taking their book from them. "You three have been loud enough! I want you out of my library right now, or five points will be taken from Gryffindor!" Harriet, Ron, and Hermione didn't need any more motivation. They darted out of there as fast as they could and headed for the common room.

"See?" said Hermione, as they walked. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"The question is," posed Harriet, "who is trying to steal it?"

"Are you serious?" demanded Ron. "I'll tell ya' who! Its Snape. I bet that greasy-old bat would  _love_  to get his hands on the Stone!"

"It isn't Snape," said Harriet tartly. "Trust me."

"He tried to jinx you!"

"He let the troll in the bathroom!"

Harriet cut off her friend's protests with a firm shake of her head. They quieted. The three entered the Great Hall and took their seats, waiting for Harriet to say something.

"Somebody else here is trying to get at the Stone," she said surely. "I don't know what Snape's been trying to do, but, if anything, he's trying to protect the Stone."

"You think?" Ron asked, trying not to sound as doubtful of his friend as he really was. It didn't work and Harriet laughed, then shrugged. She framed her next words carefully.

"Dumbledore trusts Snape," Harriet said carefully. "What if, when Snape went to look for the three-headed dog that night, he wasn't looking for the Stone-"

"But for the actual thief!" said Hermione excited. Her smiled darkened. "But Harriet, he tried to jinx you! Remember? At Quidditch. I saw him muttering words under his breath and not blinking because you need to maintain eye contact for jinxes!"

Ron looked as though he had come to realization, "Don't you need to maintain eye contact for counter jinxes, too?"

"Of course," wailed Hermione, obviously disappointed with herself for not making the connection. "How did I not see that before?" Ron awkwardly patted her on the back, not really sure how to comfort her.

"So we have two very different theories," said Hermione, once she had calmed herself down. "Which is right?"

"There isn't really any way to tell," Harriet grimaced. "So, for now, I guess we just wait and see."

* * *

**Harriet Potter Hogwarts-February 13, 1992**

The next day dawned bright and clear, but tensions were high because of the high stakes of the game. If Gryffindor won against Hufflepuff, they would take the lead for the House Cup, finally stealing it back from Slytherin for the first time in seven years.

Both Ron and Hermione were worried because Snape was refereeing, but Harriet honestly didn't know what to tell them to calm them down. They had not been as open to Harriet's "Snape is trying to save the Stone" theory as she had first believed.

Instead, she told them that she was playing to wipe the smirks off of the Slytherins' faces (she had nothing against the Hufflepuffs- they were quite nice, actually). If she didn't, she'd never live it down and she'd probably be exiled from Gryffindor.

If she was lucky...

Ron and Hermione had prepared valiantly to protect her from Snape (although they didn't tell Harriet that!). They'd been practicing the Leg-Locker Curse after seeing Malfoy using it on Neville.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

"The whole school is here," Neville said, as Ron and Hermione found a spot next to him in the bleachers. "Even Dumbledore!"

Ron and Hermione let out collective sighs of relief. Snape would never do anything with Dumbledore watching. Harriet would be safe. So, when the game started, both Ron and Hermione were completely focused on watching Harriet find the Snitch. At least, until-

"Ouch!" Ron whined as somebody poked him in the back of the head.  Ron scowled and turned around, only to see Malfoy smirking at him.  Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the game, where Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff (a completely unfair) penalty.  Ron, however, was beginning to get angry. 

Malfoy began to speak quite loudly.  "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's living with a bunch'a lowlife scum, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Ron went to tell Malfoy off-- Neville was always nice to them, after all, and lions stuck together!-- but before he could, Neville spoke up.  Blushing bright red with both anger and embarrassment he said, "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."

"You tell him, Neville," Ron muttered.  He hadn't bothered to look away from the pitch, though, where Harriet was continuing to circle, looking for the snitch. 

"Longbottom," Malfoy snorted, "If brains were gold, you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

What little patience Ron had broke.  He launched himself at Malfoy, tackling him to the ground.  Neville hesitated, then joined in, ready to help one of his only friends.  Hermione wasn't even paying attention, focused instead on the game, where Harriet had just gone into a dive, headed straight for Snape.

"Come on, Harriet!"

She missed him by inches.  Snape turned only a moment before Harriet shot past him.  Her hand was outstretched-- then, she pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph.  She'd caught the snitch!

Everybody was in an uproar. It had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

Hermione was dancing up and down, hugging Parvati Patil, yelling "Ron! Ron! The game's over! Harriet's won!  _We've_ won! Gryffindor has the lead!"

Down on the pitch, Harriet was in shock.  She hadn't expected to find the snitch that early on.  Now Gryffindor had the lead.  She saw Snape give her a barely perceptible nod of congratulations, then he went off to his Slytherins, no doubt to sulk a bit.  He was surprisingly competitive when it came to Quidditch.  Then again, most of the professors were. 

Harriet was in her room later when Isaura came to find her. Everybody was downstairs celebrating, but Harriet had wanted a moment of quiet to herself so she could write to her parents.  When Harriet saw Isaura slithering towards her, she picked her up and placed her on the desk.  Isaura hissed.

" _There isss trouble, pequininha."_

"Trouble?

_"I saw the Sssnape man speaking with the squirrel in the woods."_

"You mean Quirrell?" Harriet said, after a moment.  "What did he say?"

Isaura relayed their conversation-- apparently Snape had wanted to meet Quirrell in the woods, privately, to discuss the sorcerer's stone.  Snape was talking to Quirrell about " _Hagrid'sss beassst_ " and whether or not Quirrel had found a way past it.  The conversation ended with Snape threatening that Quirrell did not want him as an enemy and that Quirrell better learn where his loyalties lied. 

Harriet was just digested this information when Hermione came running up the steps to the dorm.  "Harriet!  Where have you been?  We won!   _You_ won!  We won!"

Harriet was too worried to be excited.  "Get Ron.  Meet me in the boy's dorm." 

With that, she slipped off her chair and went to Ron's room.  Hermione followed with him a few minutes later.   Ron was still giddy and gave Harriet a congratulatory thump on the back.  "I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right! Talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harriet breathlessly. "Wait until you hear this."

She told them what Isaura had said, but made it seem as though she'd overheard it earlier while cleaning up her broom by the Quidditch pitch.  

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it." Ron muttered to himself after Harriet had finished her story.

"Or," Harriet emphasized, "Quirrell is trying to steal the Stone and Snape is trying to stop him!" The looks that both Ron and Hermione gave her showed how disbelieving they were. And she couldn't blame them: she would be the same way if she were in their position.

"You think s-s-stuttering P-P-rofessor Q-Qu-Quirrell is trying to steal the Stone?" Hermione asked, in a tone that clearly stated the she was worried for her friend's mental health. "And you think that Snape-"

"-the meanest, darkest, scariest teacher in the whole school-" interjected Ron.

"-is trying to protect it?" Harriet opened her mouth to form an argument, but there honestly wasn't much she could say. She knew that everybody at the school had to believe that Snape hated her, but she hadn't realized how difficult it would be keeping her secret from her friends. Then again, she hadn't really imagined she would have gotten friends as good as Ron and Hermione.

"I don't get you, mate," Ron sighed. "Snape spends all his time in class belittling you and insulting you, but here you are defending him!"

"I'm not saying he's not a git," Harriet said quickly, "but I don't think we should assume that he's guilty just because we hate him and because he's mean. Besides, Snape is a Slytherin, right?" Harriet asked.

"Right," Ron and Hermione chorused.

"Well, they are supposed to be cunning aren't they?" Harriet asked again. When Ron and Hermione agreed, Harriet continued, "If Snape really  _was_  trying to steal the Stone, don't you think that he would try to be a little less obvious about it?"

"Thats true," Hermione admitted. "So you think Quirrell's stutter is just a front?" Harriet frowned.

"I don't know," Harriet frowned. "Maybe, maybe not."

"We've been too focused on Snape to pay any attention to Quirrell," Ron groused. He nodded firmly. "Alright, Operation The Man Underneath the Turban is a go!"

Both Harriet and Hermione gaped at him.

"What?" he asked them, turning bright red. "My dad made us watch this movie once called The Man Behind that Mask? I thought it was appropriate."

"I like it," Hermione encouraged.

"Alright," Harriet closed, "Tomorrow, we begin Operation The Man Underneath the Turban."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday! Fanfiction.net was having problems with their login page, so I couldn't get to my stories until now.
> 
> More notes: Okay, for some reason this chapter double posted, and I sincerely apologize. It's fixed now.


	11. The Figure in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. As usual, I own nothing.

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

**"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are".**

**~Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Hogwarts-April 19, 1992**

Weeks passed, but there was no information on Quirrell. He seemed to grow paler over time, but he hadn't done anything particularly evil (save one very nasty pop-quiz, but Hermione said that this didn't count, much to Harriet's and Ron's chagrin).

It was difficult, though, to find time to watch Quirrell with the work piled on by their teachers. Exams were still several months away, but it didn't seem the teachers (or Hermione, for that matter) realized it with all the extra homework.

Harriet sighed as she climbed the stairs to her dorm. She, Ron, and Hermione were going to work on their Transfiguration essays, but she had left her book in her room. Opening the door, she found herself pleasantly surprised since neither Lavender or Parvati (whose giggling was annoying her more and more each day) were there.

"Where is that book?" she muttered to herself as she sifted through the paper and text-books in her book bag. "There you are," she said triumphantly, lifting the heavy text from its place towards the bottom. She went to leave, but a small hiss stopped her.

"Isaura!" she greeted, realizing that her snake had been waiting patiently for her on one of her bed posts. "I almost didn't...see..you..." she trailed off, a vague plan beginning to form in her head, assuming that Isaura was okay with it.

"Isaura," she said quickly, not giving her friend time to respond, "Are you doing anything particularly important?"

" _I'm a sssnake, pequinina,_ " she hissed, amused, but sounding a bit more agitated than normal. Harriet couldn't help but agree that it was a rather stupid question. " _But listen, Pequinina, I wasss jusst down at the Big Man'ss hut, and he needss-"_

 _"_ Can you do me a favor?" Harriet asked, cutting Isaura off. Admittedly, it was rather rude, and Harriet felt guilty after the fact, but for now she was too excited. "Ron, Hermione, and I have been trying to get information on Quirrell, but we haven't had much time. Could you follow him around and tell me what you find?"

Isaura hissed, not happy about being cut off, but unable to deny the urgency in her mistress's voice, hissed " _Finee,_ rather snappishly, before slithering from the bed rather rapidly, not bothering to say goodbye, and heading for the door.

"Harriet?" Hermione asked, walking into the room. "Whats taking you so long?" Hermione smiled when she saw Isaura, whom she had come to like in the past few months. "Hello, Isaura."

Isaura just snapped and hissed angrily as she slunk through the door. Hermione frowned and looked at Harriet worried. "Did I do something to upset her? She seems annoyed."

Harriet shook her head absentmindedly. Hermione was right, Isaura had been very agitated when Harriet found her, even before she had rudely cut her off. What had she been trying to say earlier? Harriet's eyes widened and she looked at Hermione. Hermione frowned, worried, and asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I hope so," Harriet said slowly, swallowing. "Hermione, go get Ron. We need to see Hagrid."

Hermione nodded curtly, trusting her friend enough to know that Harriet wouldn't be asking them to abandon their essay, which was due tomorrow, for something that wasn't important. Harriet watched her friend leave then let out a puff of air. She hoped she wasn't wrong. She would feel immensely guilty if she dragged her friends across Hogwarts grounds for no reason at all.

They met up at the downstairs, then set off. They tried to understand why Harriet thought Hagrid was in trouble, but she couldn't really tell them anything without letting slip the fact that she was a Parselmouth, something that she wasn't sure she wanted to do just yet. What if they rejected her because of it? She remembered Moony mentioning some similar apprehensions during his school years regarding his friends and his lycanthropy, so she made a mental note to ask about it the next time she saw him.

"I told you, Isaura seemed really testy when she came back from Hagrid's hut. I'm worried that he is in trouble," she sighed, trying to not lie to them, while not trying simultaneously to lie to them. It was rather difficult to do.

"Yeah," Ron said, "fine. But how did you know that Isaura had just come from Hagrid's-"

"Hagrid!" Harriet cut him off (she was doing that a lot lately) and began running quickly to his house, then banging loudly on the door. "Hagrid are you in there?" Harriet, Ron, and Hermione heard a loud bang coming from inside, followed by a muffled curse, and grew even more frantic than before.

"Hagrid!"

"Hagrid are you alright?

"Open up, Hagrid!"

They pounded hard on the door. All three jumped backwards when their hands met cloth instead of wood. They had been hitting Hagrid, who was wearing a very odd outfit.

"Hagrid," Ron asked, wrinkling his nose, "Why are you wearing a cooking apron and oven mitts?"

"Er, no real reason," he coughed trying to use his bulky frame to block their view of the door. Harriet narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Listen, now ain't a good time. Come back later, yeh hear?"

"Hagrid, Isaura just came to me and she seemed really upset." Harriet said, making her eyes wide, a trick she had learned from her short time with her parents. "We just wanted to make sure everything is alright," she told him, sniffing slightly for good measure.

"Oh, alright," he huffed, "get in 'ere." Ignoring the awestruck expressions of both Ron and Hermione, Harriet hopped over the threshold. After they had followed, Hagrid closed the door firmly shut behind him.

"Uh, Hagrid," coughed Hermione, "maybe you should open a window or something. Its very stuffy in here." Indeed, the hut was filled with smoke and soot, making it hard to breath, or even see.

"I was gettin' chilly," Hagrid said evasively. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"In this weather?" he asked skeptically. Indeed, it was very warm outside and the sun was shining brightly. Hagrid shifted.

"I think I might be coming down with something," he muttered, giving a feeble cough. "You three should probably get out'a here 'afore you come down with I got!"

"Hang on, Hagrid," Hermione protested, moving to avoid one of Hagrid's hands, which were attempting to assure them out, knocking over a pan in the process. "We came to ask you about what other enchantments were guarding the Stone besides Fluffy!"

Hagrid drew in a deep breath, almost choking on the smoke. "Found out about that, did'ya?" He wheezed. He chuckled. "Should'a known yeh would," he nodded crossly, "too dang nosey, all three of yeh!"

"Well, I can't tell yeh," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts — I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione.

Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

"I think we're a bad influence on her," muttered Harriet quietly to Ron, while Hagrid was gathering his thoughts.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that…" said Hagrid. "Let's see… he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments… Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall —" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell — an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Professor Quirrell?"

"Professor Snape?"

Harriet shot both of her friends a sour look. She understood their hesitance. It had been weeks and weeks and they had found nothing at all to prove that Quirrell was the one responsible for trying to steal the stone. Hopefully, she rationalized, Isaura would bring back some evidence to show them once and for all.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. aren't you, Hagrid?" said Harriet anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly. Then his grin faded as he glances hastily towards the fire. Harriet frowned and followed his gaze.

"Hagrid— what's that?"

There, in the fire, was a large black egg. Harriet didn't recognize it, but Ron did.

"Blimey, Hagrid," he breathed. "Where did you get a dragon's egg? It must've cost you a fortune!"

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"What are you going to do with a dragon, Hagrid?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library —Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit — it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here — how ter recognize diff'rent eggs — what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

"Hagrid," Harriet said doubtfully, "you live in a wooden house!" Hagrid waved away her concerns. He walked over to the fire and, using a poker, began to stoke it, humming a tuneless song while he worked.

"Now we know what Isaura was on about," Ron informed his friends after they had left the hut. "Besides that fact that Hagrid's trying to raise a Norwegian Ridgeback in house made of wood, dragons are highly illegal."

Harriet stopped short, as did Hermione. "Are you saying," Hermione asked fretfully, "that if somebody finds out about the dragon egg Hagrid could go to prison?"

Ron grimaced, "He'd have to pay a hefty fine, at the least."

"Malfoy's father is on the Board of Governors for the school," Harriet remembered suddenly. "If Draco gets a hold of this and it gets back to his father, he'll try and spin it and say that Hagrid has got the dragon really close to a bunch of kids and is putting us in danger."

"That'd definitely earn him a few years in Azkaban," Ron said, paling. Harriet sucked in a breath. She didn't know much about Azkaban, but she knew from Sirius's reactions to the place that it was awful.

"We can't let that happen!" Hermione said hysterically. Harriet wondered if she should hit her to snap her out of it, but didn't have time when Hermione threw her arms around Ron and hugged him fiercely, trying to calm herself down. Ron shot Harriet a panicked look and she had to hide her snickers as he placed a hesitant arm around her.

"We won't," Ron assured her, "we'll come up with something."

* * *

**Hogwarts- April 29, 1992**

Contrary to Ron's words, a week went by and none of them had any idea of what to do about the egg. In between classes, homework, additional studying and Quidditch, Harriet and her friends barely had time to sneeze, let alone figure out how to save Hagrid. Nor did they have time to follow Quirrell or Snape around. The one thing Harriet could take comfort in was the fact that Isaura had yet to report back on Quirrell, so she knew that nothing too major was going on.

One day, while eating breakfast, Hedwig delivered a small note. Harriet recognized the writing almost immediately.

 _It's hatching_ , was all the note said in Hagrid's familiar scratchy scrawl. Harriet took the note and quickly shoved it in her book bag before anybody else could see.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology so that they wouldn't miss it, but Hermione refused.

"C'mon, Hermione," he whined, annoyed. "How many times are you going to see a dragon hatch?"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione told him tartly, "if we miss class, the teachers will get suspicious!"

"Guys," Harriet hissed. Malfoy, who had been walking just a bit ahead of them, had stopped in his tracks. The three watched horrorstruck as he then walked quickly away.

"He couldn't have heard anything," Hermione said weakly. Ron nodded firmly. Harriet wasn't so sure. She didn't like the look on Malfoy's face.

During morning break, Hermione, Ron, and Harriet rushed as fast as they could down to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid greeted them, looking excited and very pleased. He beamed at them and ushered them inside. He told them that it was almost out and quickly ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the small table. Harriet could see that, unlike the previous time they had visited, there were large cracks in it. It was rocking back and forth and there were some funny noises in it, as though something was moving from the inside.

Hagrid nudged them closer, so they all moved to stand around it, watching it eagerly.

The egg split open suddenly and a(n ugly) baby dragon popped out. Harriet had been expecting something more, so she was a bit disappointed: black and crumpled, with spiny wings and large, orange eyes.

She couldn't imagine such a little animal doing very much damage, but then it sneezed, forcing a small stream of fire from its nose. Hagrid, who had been standing too close, had to quickly put out some stray sparks in his beard.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid said thickly, although whether that was from love or pain, Harriet couldn't tell. Hagrid reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head, but apparently it wasn't in the mood. It gave his finger a good chomp, holding on tightly.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" said Hagrid, tears falling from his eyes as he gently tried to loosen the dragon's hold.

"Hagrid," said Hermione cautiously, watching the small creature apprehensively, as though it might suddenly decide to have a go at her, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid shrugged and mumbled some incomprehensible answer. The trio exchanged glances. Harriet was about to ask Hagrid what he planned on doing when the dragon got larger, but she was started by Ron darting from his place and to the window, knocking over a cup in the process.

The dragon gave a frightened cry and Hagrid glared at Ron, who was looking pale-faced out the small window. "Watch it, Ron! Yeh scared 'im!"

"Never mind that!" said Ron, turning around to face them. "Someone was looking through the gap in the curtains! I think it was Malfoy!"

Harriet bolted to the door and looked out. She hadn't doubted Ron to begin with, but if what he said was true... Harriet squinted. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Harriet, Ron, and Hermione very nervous.

* * *

**Hogwarts-May 8, 1992**

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione did not think that it would be too difficult to convince Hagrid to get rid of the dragon, but they were wrong. They tried reason, blackmail, bribery, and plain old begging, but he wouldn't bend.

"I can't," said Hagrid, when Hermione pleaded with him to just let Norbert go. "He's too little. He'd die."

Harriet cast a skeptical eye at the dragon. It had grown much since they had last seen it and was now the size of a large dog. Fang stood huddled in the corner, watching it through weary eyes. Because of its large size and even larger appetite, Hagrid had been neglecting his gamekeeping duties, meaning that the grounds of Hogwarts were not up to their usual standards of elegance. She wondered how long it would take before Dumbledore realized that something was wrong.

 _If he didn't already,_ Harriet rationalized.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon proudly. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"

"He's gone mental," Ron muttered into Harriet's ear. She couldn't help but agree. Hermione, however, stayed focused on the task at hand, reminding Hagrid that Norbert would soon by larger than the house, so, even if Malfoy did keep his mouth shut, it would be unlikely that he would be able to keep his secret for long.

Hagrid looked as though he was going to have to swallow a particularly disgusting potion. "But he's just a baby," he whined. Harriet's eyes lit up and she turned to Ron.

"Charlie." she said.

"You're losing it, too," said Ron. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No — Charlie — your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Hermione, beaming at the rare insight her friend had shown (not that Harriet was unintelligent, of course, but Hermione had already learned that she could be rather oblivious at times). "How about it, Hagrid?"

It took a bit more prodding, along with plenty assurances from Ron that Norbert would be well looked after, but Hagrid finally agreed. Of course, all they had to do now was get Ron's brother to agree to smuggle an illegal dragon out of Hogwarts.

"He will," Ron assured them, as they tied the note to Hedwig's leg. "He loves Hagrid as much as we do! They became really close when he was at Hogwarts, since they both liked dragons so much."

The next night found Hermione and Harriet sitting alone in the common room during dinner, alone. They were waiting for Ron, who was down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. The common room door opened and they ran up to meet him.

"Ron!" Hermione blanched at the sight of him. "You're hand! Indeed, Ron's hand was wrapped tightly in a handkerchief, which was slowly growing darker and darker with the color of blood.

"It bit me!" he scowled. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's Hedwig!" said Harriet, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

_Dear Ron,_

_How are you? Thanks for the letter — I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon._

_Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark._

_Send me an answer as soon as possible._

_Love,_

_Charlie_

They looked at one another.

"How are we going to get to the top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight?" wailed Hermione. "We'll be seen for sure!"

"Not if we use my invisibility cloak," Harriet said without thinking. Both Ron and Hermione gaped at her. Ron scowled accusingly.

"We've been sneaking around the castle all this time," he began angrily, "and you've got an invisibility cloak-"

"My parents told me not to misuse it!"

"Oh," retorted Ron, crossing his arms over his chest, making sure not to hurt his injured hand, "and you've been listening to everything else they've told you not to do!" Harriet's eyes flashed and Ron immediately knew that he had gone too far. He sighed and dropped his arms, holding the handkerchief firmly around his injury.

"I think they'd be okay with this," Harriet said quietly, still hurt by her friend's words. Hermione watched their interaction cautiously, not knowing what to do. "They love Hagrid, too."

"Yeah," Ron said slowly, looking at Harriet cautiously, wondering if she was still angry. "I reckon they would."

Harriet gave him a small smile, which he eagerly returned. Hermione rolled her eyes.

 _Those two_ , she thought affectionately.  _They couldn't stay angry at each other for anything!_

Harriet had gone to bed that night feeling much better knowing that there was a plan in place. The next morning, though, on her way to breakfast, she thought she felt her heart fall straight through her stomach and to the floor: she could see Ron, sitting next to Hermione, struggling to eat his breakfast with one hand, his other under the table. Judging by the grim expressions on their faces, things were not good. When the three of them escaped the breakfast hall (Harriet not even caring that she hadn't eaten anything), Harriet finally saw that Ron's hand had swollen to twice its usual size.

They debated as to whether or not they should go to Madam Pomfrey, but when Ron's hand began to turn a nasty shade of green, they had no choice. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harriet and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed. At first, they assumed that it was only his hand that was bothering, but he denied it.

"Mafloy was here earlier," he groaned softly.

"How did he get in?" Hermione frowned. Harriet was wondering the same thing. It had taken quite a bit of begging to get Madam Pomfrey to let them in. The only reason she had finally relented was because she knew how close the three had become in the recent months.

"He lied and fed her some nonsense about needing to borrow a book for class," Ron rolled his eyes and Harriet snickered.

"I didn't know Malfoy could read," she said, eyebrows raised to her hairline. Hermione thought this was funny, but Ron still looked worried.

"He threatened to tell Madam Pomfrey about what really bit me."

"What did you tell her it was?" Harriet asked.

"A dog bite," Ron admitted. Harriet cast his hand a doubtful look. Harriet had been bit by dogs several times in her short life, thanks to Aunt Marge and her bull dogs (in fact, bitting her seemed to be the favorite hobby of Ripper, one of the stupider and larger dogs), and Ron's green hand looked nothing like a dog bite.

"I don't thinks he believed me," Ron said, "but she didn't say anything."

"Of course she didn't," Hermione soothed. "What was she going to do? Turn you away? And don't worry about Malfoy. This entire thing will be behind us by midnight on Saturday."

Contrary to Hermione's intention, this didn't assure Ron at all. Instead, he seemed to grow even more green (Harriet wondered if she should get him a bucket) and he looked as though the world was going to end. "Malfoy's got my book!" He wailed.

"Don't worry," Harriet said, totally flabbergasted, "I'm sure you'll get it back eventually. And you can borrow mine until then."

"No," scowled Ron, "thats not what I meant! Charlie's letter was in that book!"

Hermione and Harriet's eyes widened, realizing the implications of Malfoy's actions. He would know about Norbert. They didn't have a chance to discuss things further, though, because Madam Pomfrey shushed them out, saying that Ron was looking too pale and needed to sleep. Harriet doubted that the pallor of Ron's skin had anything to do with a lack of sleep.

"We can't change our plans now," said Harriet to Hermione as they walked the (thankfully) deserted hallway. "Who knows if we are going to have another chance to get rid of Norbert? And, at the rate he's growing, he'll be as big as that troll in a few more weeks!"

"At least we have the cloak," said Hermione, biting strongly on her lip. She gave a weak smile. "Malfoy doesn't know about that, at least."

In order to run through their plan one more time, Harriet and Hermione headed to Hagrid's hut. They weren't surprised to see Fang (Hagrid's boarhound) outside. He hadn't really taken to Norbert like his master had. Judging by his newly bandaged foot, he had good reason to keep his distance.

They tried knocking on Hagrid's door, but he didn't answer. Instead, both Harriet and Hermione received a large shock when Hagrid's head poked out the window. Judging by the banging from inside his hut, Norbert was in a very testy mood.

Harriet explained Charlie's letter as fast as she could, hoping to keep their visit short. Hagrid seemed very happy with the development, although it was rather hard to tell due to the fact that his beard had once again caught on fire. Harriet, thinking quickly, grabbed the plate of water that Hagrid had set out for Fang and flung the contents on Hagrid's face. He sputtered, thanked her, then disappeared back inside.

Harriet and Hermione left, both knowing that Saturday would not come fast enough.

When Saturday did come, however, both Harriet and Hermione were worried sick about what they had to do. Hermione in particular kept rambling about how they were sure to get expelled if they were caught. Harriet pointed out that being expelled was the least of their worries, considering how many many laws they were breaking. Suffice to say, this did not calm Hermione down in the slightest, which meant that Harriet's nerves were even more on edge due to her friend's chattering.

Hagrid was very sad to see Norbert go, and while Harriet felt a bit bad for him, she couldn't help but feel complete longing for the moment when Norbert would be gone and Harriet would never have to worry about him again. Hermione seemed to be feeling similarly, judging by her lack of compassion towards Hagrid.

Hagrid was sobbing as Harriet and Hermione picked up the crate that held Norbert. Hagrid had also packed it full of rats and brandy and a teddy bear that (to Harriet's ears) had already had it's head ripped clean off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid choked out, as Harriet and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

Harriet firmly believed that carrying Norbert back up to the castle and along the staircases and through the hallways was one of the most impossible feats every accomplished in the history of Hogwarts. Smirking at the thought of the reactions of her father and Remus and Sirius (knowing full well all the things that they had done), she directed Hermione towards one of the several shortcuts she knew, not that it helped much.

"Nearly there!" Harriet panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

The sudden sound of footsteps made Harriet and Hermione stop short. Hermione gave a frightened squeak and Harriet had to surpress the urge to drop her side of the crate and slap her hand over Hermione's mouth. The invisibility cloak kept people from seeing them, but they could still be heard. Harriet could make out the outline of two different people. For a moment, she struggled to see who they were, but then a lamp flared.

McGonagall had Malfoy by the ear and was severely chastising him, promising detention and a deduction of twenty points from Slytherin, ignoring all of Malfoy's protests about a dragon.

They made it up the spiral staircase after that and, chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert trying desperately to escape in his crate. After about ten minutes, Hermione nudged Harriet and pointed eagerly. Harriet could just make out four broomsticks swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were very happy, despite the fact that what they were doing was highly illegal. They showed Harriet and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harriet and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

And, finally, Norbert was gone.

They made it back downstairs, happy that this chapter in their lives was finally over. Between Norbert and Malfoy and exams, things had been stressful as of late. But it was all done with now!

" _Pequinina_ ," Harriet stopped short, along with Hermione. Isaura had been slithering quietly toward them. Harriet and Hermione grinned widely, despite the fact that Isaura's expression was very grave. " _I must tell you something important, pequinina! The double-speak man was crying earlier today. He sounded very anxious."_

"Thats not good," Harriet muttered to herself, making sure to speak quietly in English, knowing that if Quirrell was crying, something must have changed. She spoke hoping that Hermione would not hear her, but thankfully she was still on a Norbert-free induced high. "We were just-" Harriet stopped short and sucked in a deep breath.

"What?" pressed Hermione. Harriet shot her a panicked look.

"Isaura can see us!" she hissed, trying to pull Hermione along the corridor and back up to the tower. Hermione still seemed a bit perplexed.

"So?" It took her another second to realize what Harriet had already learned. "The cloak!"

The turned around to head back to the tower, but found themselves face to face with none other than Snape himself. He held his wand up to their faces, lighting up their guilty expressions. He tutted softly.

"Well, well, well," he hissed, "we are in trouble."

* * *

**Snape's Office, Hogwarts - May 9, 1992**

It was past midnight and both Harriet and Hermione found themselves being lead into Snape's office. They followed, neither daring to say a word. He opened the door and they saw both McGonagall and Draco, but they were surprised to see Neville there as well. He was pale faced and anxious.

"Harriet! Hermione!" Neville said, not caring how much trouble he was in. "What's going on? I've heard you've got a dragon-"

Harriet didn't have to worry about quieting Neville, as Snape did it for her with a deep glare. Neville gulped. Harriet turned her eyes back to Snape.

Beside her, Hermione seemed beside herself, sniffling occasionally, but Harriet's mind was racing: she had known that she was breaking the rules and that her parents would not be happy, but she assumed that if she explained everything to them, they would understand. Snape was a different story. First off, she had no idea how close he was to Hagrid. Second, even if he did understand where she was coming from, his obligation to play the role of a bad guy would dictate that he turn Hagrid in. This left her with one option.

She had to lie through her teeth. Hopefully, all of her practice with the Dursleys would pay off. Granted, Snape was much smarter than her relatives and could read her like a book, but it was worth a shot.

"Well," sneered Snape, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, "do either one of you wish to tell me what you were doing?"

Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself, but Harriet nudged her, quieting her. Harriet didn't say anything, just watching Snape, waiting to here what he would say. If she could figure out how much he knew, she and Hermione might be able to talk their way out of the hole they had dug themselves into.

"No?" Snape quirked an eyebrow. He stood up quickly and moved to stand in front of them, his face close to their own. His eyes, as always, were like dark and endless tunnels. "They're have been some interesting rumors floating around these halls," he whispered, "and now is the time to figure out the truth. We will stay here all night if we have to."

"With all due respect, sir," Harriet said boldly, in a tone that garnered no respect at all, "Isn't this outside of you're jurisdiction? Professor McGonagall is our Head of House." Harriet met Snape's gaze evenly. She might be able to get off on a technicality. Granted, McGonagall wouldn't be too happy about their behavior either, but she might be a little bit more fair . Harriet snuck a glance at said Professor. She didn't look too happy.

"Trying to weasel your way out of punishment, Potter," Snape said, sounding highly amused in a twisted way. "Well, your Head of House and I have discussed that, as this seems to concern both Slytherin and Gryffindor students, we shall both handle the task of assigning punishments."

He straightened. "Since neither of you wish to divulge what has happened here this night, perhaps I should guess?"

Hermione raised her head defiantly and grabbed Harriet's hand. Harriet gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble." Snape said, speaking slowly. "Professor McGonagall has already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

Harriet caught Neville's eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn't true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville — Harriet knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them. Snape noticed her look and he had had plenty of practice in reading her expressions.

"Unless," he muttered, "you wish to tell me that there actually was a dragon?" Hermione sucked in a deep breath and looked to Harriet, who had never felt more conflicted in her life. If she admitted that Hagrid had a dragon, he would probably go to prison. Dumbledore might be able to protect him, but it would not be worth the risk. Neville, however, would know that Harriet and Hermione had not been trying to trick him. If Harriet said that there was no dragon, Hagrid would be safe, but Neville would be hurt.

"Well, Potter?" he sneered. Harriet made her decision.

"There wasn't a dragon, sir," she told him. "We made it up, but we never meant-" Snape cut her off. Harriet prayed that she would have another chance to explain everything to Neville.

"I should have known," Snape sneered, speaking only to Harriet. She braced herself for whatever he was about to throw at her, reminding herself that he didn't mean it. "You're just like you're father. He and his friends used to strut about this castle as if they owned it. Its plain to see that you are just as vain and arrogant-"

"Professor Snape!" Professor McGonagall cut off, looking aghast. Harriet was barely holding herself together. There was something different, this time, about how he had insulted her. She had seen it in his eyes. He  _meant_ it this time.

"Fifty points," Snape said curtly, "will be taken from Gryffindor house."

"Fifty," gasped Hermione. Harriet looked desperately at her Head of House. Surely McGonagall wouldn't let Snape do that? They would lose the lead she had in won in their last Quidditch match.

"Fifty  _each,_ " she breathed, through her long pointed nose. "And all four of you shall receive detention."

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Malfoy, speaking up for the first time. He looked a bit confused. "I thought you said  _four-"_

 _"_ Yes, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall snapped, "that means you, too!"

"Surely," Snape said silkily, "it isn't right to punish Mr. Malfoy, when he was only the victim of a cruel-"

"I don't want to hear it," McGonagall snapped. The glare she gave silenced even Snape. "If Mr. Malfoy was so convinced that there was dragon, he could have gone to a teacher, could he have not?" Snape glowered, knowing that she was right. " _Nothing_  gives a student the right to be wandering the corridors at night!"

With that, they were each ushered to their respective dorms, Neville ignoring the pleas of Harriet and Hermione trying to get him to listen. Harriet and Hermione both went to sleep with heavy hearts that night.

* * *

**Hogwarts - May 13, 1992**

_Dear Harriet,_

_Severus wrote to us explaining you're rather interesting adventure around the castle, love. What did we say about roaming the corridors at night? We told you it was dangerous. Granted, we understand that asking you to completely follow all of the rules at Hogwarts is unlikely and there are certain things that all students at Hogwarts do at one point or another (lord knows you're father did his fair share of rule breaking and pranking at school)._

_While he and Sirius applaud you on your first attempt at a prank (I'm going to look the other way for a moment), we can't help but be a bit disappointed that you had to involve Neville in your trickery._

_We thought you were friends?_

_Regardless, we hope that you apologize to him, especially as (at least to our knowledge) he has never done anything other than be nice to you._

_We love and miss you,_

_Your parents._

Harriet scowled at the letter and resisted the urge to chuck it into the fire of the common room. Although she had originally planned on telling her parents the truth, she had not planned on being caught by Snape. In fact, she hadn't planned on being caught by anybody. If she told her parents, though, Snape would know that she had lied to his face and he would be even more angry with her.

And he was  _very_  angry with her. She couldn't even see him in the halls without garnering some sort of biting remark or sharp insult. To make matters worse, it was only Ron and Hermione who felt bad for her. The rest of Gryffindor house, so angry with her and her friends for losing them so many points, had taken to either completely ignoring her or verbally (and even physically, on a few occasions, which were, thankfully, more shoving rather than any physical blows) attacking her in the halls.

Fred and George even pretended that they didn't know Harriet or Hermione. That was nothing compared to Percy, though, who had greeted them the morning after their adventure with a stern lecture on "troublemaking" and "failed expectations." Hermione was left close to tears, as she had gotten on quite well with Percy, but Harriet, having received much sterner dressing downs in her life, just shrugged it off.

Ron, whose hand had finally healed, wasn't as understanding when Percy suggested that he break his friendship with the two "hooligans." Percy was unable to stop laughing for hours because of the vicious Tickling Charm Ron had cast (one of the few spells in his repertoire) and Flitwick, although obligated to give him detention for doing magic in the hall, seemed very reluctant in having to punish such excellent Charms work.

To top it all, Harriet hadn't seen hide nor hair of Isaura since their encounter in the hallway a few nights prior. She was starting to get worried, especially as she had no more information about why Quirrell had been crying.

"Hey," Harriet jumped. Ron and Hermione had both snuck up on her. Hermione had been trying to tutor Ron in History of Magic in hopes to prep him for the exam and it seemed that they had just returned back from the library.

"Hey," Harriet said, sitting up from her position on the couch. It startled her to realize that she was now alone in the common room. In fact, it was rather late. She could already see the stars. She rubbed her eyes and picked up her letter. Hermione noticed.

"Whats that?" she asked curiously. Harriet said, "A letter from my parents."

"Are the angry with you?" Ron asked quietly. Harriet grimaced and clenched the letter in her first, rumpling it even more.

"No," she told her friends bitterly, "they are  _disappointed_ in me." Both Ron and Hermione gave their friend sympathetic glances, knowing how difficult it must be for her to displease her parents.

"Well cheer up," Ron said, "At least we've got detention with Hagrid!" Harriet raised her head and looked at him curiously.

"You've got detention?"

"For the Tickling Charm, remember?" He prodded. "I convinced Flitwick to let me have detention with you guys."

"Speaking of which," Hermione urged, trying to pull her friend from her seat, "we have to be there soon! We can't be late to detention!" Laughing at Hermione, Harriet got up off her seat and, after placing the letter back in her room, the three made their way to Hagrid's hut, speculating as to what he would have them do. When they got there, Neville was already waiting and Filch had already brought Draco outside. Filch sneered at them.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me… It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out… hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed… Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

"Leave 'em alone, Filch," came Hagrid's voice from the Hut. They could here him rummaging around as he prepared.

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf?" Filch snapped, noting the curious looks on their faces. "Well, think again, girl — it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night — there's all sorts of things in there — werewolves, I heard."

Both Hermione and Ron grimaced. They were unsure of why, but they knew that Harriet had a soft-spot for werewolves and wouldn't hear a bad word said about them. One of the Gryffindor students had learnt this the hard way a few months back when he had let slip his distaste for the creatures. He had gone to bed that night to find a very angry snake waiting for him.

Needless to say, nobody in Gryffindor said a word against werewolves with Harriet around. Malfoy wasn't a Gryffindor, though.

"Oh, shove it, Malfoy," she scowled, not really in the mood to chew him out.

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, the moonlight barely giving them enough light to see Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Alright," he said, "ready ter go? You be needin' anything else, Filch?" The caretaker aimed a caustic glare at the giant.

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harriet was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it." Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He lead them to the edge of the forest and pointed at the ground. Harriet could just make out something silver and shiny.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. We're gonna split into two parties—"

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Neville Ron, an' Hermione'll go one way,-"

"Okay," Ron said weakly.

"-Draco, Harriet, an' Fang'll go the other." Both Harriet and Draco gave each other disgusted glances, but Harriet nodded nevertheless. "Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now — that's it — an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh — so, be careful — let's go."

They wandered through the woods for a while until they came to a fork in the path. Giving a reassuring smile to Ron and Hermione, Harriet and Draco began making their way down one side on their own. Fang followed them. As they walked and kept their eyes open, Draco continued to complain.

"This is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this-!" Draco apparently couldn't think of any words to describe his father's wrath. Harriet huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Malfoy," she told him tartly, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were scared!" Draco frowned at her stopping short.

"I'm not scared, Potter," he told her indignantly, "I just-" A rustling in the bushes cut him off. Harriet whipped her lantern around. For a moment, she thought she saw a hooded figure move through the woods, but when she blinked, it was gone.

"Did you hear that?" Draco gulped, momentarily forgetting himself and grabbing the sleeve of her robe. "Was it a werewolf?"

"Quit it with the werewolves," she hissed. "It isn't even the full moon!" Then Harriet realized that Malfoy still had a firm grip on her sleeve. "And let go of me," she roughly shoved him off and Malfoy scowled.

"Excuse me for trying to comfort you," he said, trying to retain the last of his dignity. Harriet's mouth dropped and she snorted.

"Yeah," she said dryly, moving forward and calling Fang with a click of her tongue. "I really needed comforting from the likes of  _you."_

By this point, Harriet had noticed the splashes of silver becoming more frequent. That's why, a minute later, she wasn't surprised to come to something bright white and gleaming on the ground.

"Look —" she murmured, holding out her arm to stop Malfoy.

It was the unicorn, and it was dead. Harriet felt her heart break at the sight. It was beautiful and sad and made her want to cry. She didn't though— not here. Not now. Not in front of  _Malfoy._

Harriet and Draco stood transfixed for a moment, but the snap of a branch snapped them both out of it. Some bushes quivered slightly and then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure, the same one she thought she had seen earlier, came crawling across the ground like some stalking time, Harriet was the one to reach for Malfoy's sleeve, clutching it tightly in a white knuckled grip. She felt Fang press his head to her stomach as the cloaked figure finally reached the unicorn. Harriet hadn't been sure what to expect, but she was not expecting to see it bend down and lower its head over the gaping wound in its side and begin to drink. Harriet's breath began to come in short, weak, gasps. She couldn't breathe for fear. Malfoy, however, didn't seem to have that problem and let out a terrible scream.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

He turned and bolted, Fang following. Harriet, having still held his sleeve in her hand, stumbled and was pulled backwards, tripping over a root. Draco's scream had caught the attention of the hooded figure (Of course it had, Harriet thought wryly, heart pounding. It probably caught the attention of every creature in the Forbidden Forest). The figure stood up shakily, its head turning to scan the woods. Harriet prayed that it wouldn't see her, as she was slightly concealed by a bush, but it was pointless. It looked right at her and began to walk towards her.

 _Move. Move. Move._  Harriet tried to get her feet or hands or anything to work, but they didn't seem in the mood to listen. The  _thing_  took another step towards her and finally her legs decided that that would be a good moment to  _run._

She shot up and turned around, ready to sprint towards the safety of Hogwarts, but the figure was too close. She felt a hand close on the back of her cloak and, suddenly, she was hit with a pain she had never felt before.

Half-blinded, she tried to move forward, away from the figure, but its grip was too strong. Just as she felt as if her scar was going to split in half, she heard hooves behind her, galloping, and something jumped clean over Harriet, coming between her and the hooded figure.

Falling to her knees, Harriet took several shuddering breaths, waiting for the pain to pass. A few minutes later, once she finally felt as though she was no longer going to throw up, she looked up. The figure had gone. Another creature was standing over her but she could not tell if it was a man or a horse.  _A centaur,_  she realized. He had white-blond hair and a palomino body.

"Are you all right?" said the centaur, pulling Harriet to her feet.

"Yes — thank you — what was that?"

The centaur opened his mouth to answer, but then thought better of it. Harriet watched as his bright blue eyes scanned her face and then, after a moment, made the customary flick up to Harriet's scar. Harriet couldn't help but reach up and press the heel of her palm against her still burning scar.

"The forest is not safe, now," he said finally, "especially not for you. My name is Firenze. Can you ride? I must get you back to Hagrid as soon as possible." As he spoke, he moved to lower himself so that she could clamber onto his back

Harriet had never ridden a horse before, but, contrary to what some might think, she was positive that it was nothing like riding a centaur. She couldn't seem to find an  _appropriate_  place to hold on and, at the pace they were galloping, Harriet was positive she would fall off. Thankfully, Firenze soon slowed to a walk.

Even after her near death experience, Harriet once again found her insatiable curiosity raging. Firenze didn't seem to notice, though. All he told her was to keep her head low in case of low hanging branches. Unless this was a code of some sorts among the centaurs, he left Harriet's mind up to its own devices to attempt and work out what had happened. Firenze suddenly stopped as they passed through a particularly dense thicket of trees. Harriet let out a light squeak as she struggled to hang on from the jolt. Firenze paid it no mind.

"Harriet Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"

"No," said Harriet, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," said Firenze. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harriet found that her mouth was suddenly very dry. She cleared her throat. "But who would choose such a life?" she whispered, although she had a feeling she already knew the answer. Firenze answered her with another question.

"Can you not think of something that is hidden in this very school? Something that would bring you back to full strength and power?"

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Harriet exclaimed. Firenze hissed and she lowered her voice. "But who would go through all this trouble?"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

Harriet remembered the words Sirius had told her on the day they had met: "Some say that he died that night. Others aren't so sure. Some think that he didn't have enough human left in him to die, and that he is out there, waiting, biding his time."

"Do you mean," Harriet croaked, "that was Vol- "

"I'm fine," said Harriet, hardly knowing what she was saying. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harriet slid off his back and Firenze looked up at the sky. He sighed.

"Mars is bright tonight," he murmured. He looked back at Harriet, blue eyes bright in the darkness. "Good luck, Harriet Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. For your sake, and that of your friends, I hope this is one of those times."

He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Harriet, Ron, and Hermione shivering and confused in the dark forest.

The three friends were sitting in the common room. Harriet had finished explaining to Ron and Hermione what had happened and now all three were wide awake.

Harriet couldn't sit down. She paced up and down in front of the fire. She was still shaking.

"Somebody wants the stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort's waiting in the forest… and all this time we thought somebody just wanted to get rich…"

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harriet wasn't listening.

"Quirrell was crying earlier, which means that he's probably snapped at this point-"

"So admit that Snape is pressuring him to steal the Stone!" Ron said triumphantly.

"Did you not hear a word I've been saying?" Harriet demanded. "Voldemort," Ron flinched, "is waiting in the Forbidden Forest! He's the one making Quirrell do all this stuff, not Snape! It makes sense!"

"How did you know that Quirrell was crying earlier?" Hermione asked suddenly. "We didn't have Defense today." Harriet blinked.

"Oh, er," she said, "I heard some other students talking about it in the hall." Hermione nodded, satisfied, and Harriet continued feverishly. "So all I've got to wait for now is Quirrell to steal the Stone, then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off…"

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harriet, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of, with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

They stayed up talking for the rest of the night. It was almost morning by the time Harriet went to bed. As she got ready to climb in, she pulled her sheets back and found her invisibility cloak folded underneath. There was a note pinned to it:

_Just in case._


	12. Trapdoors and Triumphs

**Harriet Potter Year 1: Life, Death, and Rebirth**

**"Because things are the way they are, things will not stay the way they are."**

**-Bertolt Brecht**

* * *

**Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

Harriet was not quite sure how she had managed to survive the past few days. She had spend every waking second convinced that Voldemort himself was going to barge through the doors of her dorm-room. Her dreams were plagued with visions of her visit to the forest, always ending in the same way: with her shooting up in bed due to a scalding pain in her scar.

"Its hurt before," she complained to Ron and Hermione, her hand pressed hard to her head, as they walked through one of the courtyards after their exam. Both were looking at her with barely concealed concern.

"Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey," suggested Hermione sensibly. Harriet was shaking her head before Hermione had even finished. She knew it would do no good.

"I think its a warning," she murmured quietly so that nobody else would overhear. "It means danger is coming."

"Well of course danger is coming," Ron said, sounding highly exasperated. "You-Know-Who is living the in the Forbidden Forest, Snape is trying to steal the Stone-"

"-or Quirrell," Harriet interjected. Despite the fact that Snape wasn't even looking at her, it didn't mean that she thought him capable of stealing the Stone.

"Or Quirrell is trying to steal the Stone," Ron conceded. Hermione huffed.

"Yes, but you are both forgetting that Hagrid is the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy!" Ron nodded cheerfully in agreement, but something that had been bothering Harriet for a long time finally came to light.

"I am such an idiot!" she cried, before breaking into a run. Ron and Hermione, already well accustomed to Harriet's rather bizarre behavior and odd habit of running off without warning, followed quickly.

"Harriet," Hermione panted, "slow down! Whats the matter?"

"Don't you think its odd?" Harriet demanded, stopping so short that both Ron and Hermione almost tripped. Harriet reached a hand out to steady them. "The one thing Hagrid wants more than anything else in the world is a dragon, and suddenly he meets a man with a dragon egg? I mean, how many people do you know who walk around with illegal dragon eggs in their pockets?"

"We _are_  idiots," Ron groaned. Hermione tutted and then smirked.

"I'm not arguing." The three then exchanged a look and, as if by a secret signal, took off, sprinting rapidly towards the forest grounds. When they got to Hagrid's hut, they found him humming to himself and knitting what looked to be a large, yellow tent.

"Hello," he greeted them cheerfully, putting down his knitting sticks. He rubbed his hands together to wipe the dirt off them and offered them some biscuits, which they denied. He set the tray back down and looked at them with a large smile shining through his tangle of hair. "You lot finished with your exams?"

"Yeah," Harriet said curtly, feeling a pang of guilt when his smile lessened. She grimaced and sighed, then softening her voice. "Listen, Hagrid, the stranger you won Norbert from? The one down at the pub? Did you ever see his face?"

"No, can't say I did," Hagrid said, raising an eyebrow and scratching his chin. "He was wearin' a cloak an' he had a hood pulled up o'er is head."

"And you didn't think that was weird?" Ron gaped, incredulous. Hagrid drew himself up, slightly indignant, to defend himself.

"Well," he huffed, fixing Ron with an annoyed look, "yeh get all sorts down at that pub. Yeh ne'er know who yer go'n ter meet!"

"Did you talk to this stranger?" Hermione inquired, loosing her patience with the Grounds Keeper, despite her affection for him. "What did you talk about?"

"Er," Hagrid scratched his head, "I can't really remember. He kept buying me drinks an', well," Hagrid shrugged. "I remember, though, he was worried that I wouldn't be able ter take care of a dragon, but I told him that after Fluffy," Hagrid wagged his finger to make a point, "I says that a dragon ain't goin' ter be a problem."

"Did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harriet gasped. Hagrid snorted.

"Of course he was," Hagrid waved his hand dismissively. "How often do yeh come across a three-headed dog, even if yeh are in the trade? But," Hagrid mused, "I told 'im that the trick with any animal is knowing how ter calm him. Like with Fluffy, all yeh have ter do is play a bit o' music and he falls right ter sleep." Hagrid realized his great mistake.

"I should not have told yer that," he muttered. "I should not have-wait! Where are yeh going?" Harriet, Ron and Hermione had already taken off across the yard, making a mad dash for the entryway of the school.

They stopped in the middle of the hallway. Harriet's heart was hammering, but not because of the running. Both Hermione and Ron had stopped as well, them looking almost as panicked as she felt.

"We have to find Dumbledore," Hermione said immediately, her mind obviously racing at a million miles per hour. "We have to get to his office-

"But we don't know where it is," Ron pointed out, making Hermione groan in pure frustration and anxiety. "Fred and George haven been there enough times, though. I could ask them where it is-"

"I know where it is," Harriet said, "I went there the first day my parents come to get me. We don't know the password, though."

"Maybe we could just stand outside," Ron posed. "If we scream loud enough-"

"If you scream loud enough, then what, Mr. Weasley?" It was Professor McGonagall. The three of them all gasped since she had caught them by surprise. "Perhaps I can help you with whatever shenanigans you three are up to?"

"No shenanigans, Professor," Ron said quickly. "We need to see Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall looked highly skeptical.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very important wizard, Mr. Weasley. He has been summoned by the Ministry of Magic and is on his way to London-"

"Now?" Harriet cried. "But this is important!" Harriet had never seen McGonagall look more amused.

"More important," she chuckled, "then the Ministry of Magic?"

"Its about the Philosopher's Stone! Somebody is trying to steal it!" Harriet blurted out. Thankfully, nobody was in the hallway to hear her. That didn't stop McGonagall from dropping all of her books and going completely pale. She took a step closer to them and began to speak in a very feverish whisper.

"Now, listen here," she muttered, "I do not know how you three became privy to such information, but I can assure you that the Stone is perfectly safe!" The three friends made to protest, but McGonagall cut them off. "Enough," she hissed. "Now, I expect you three to join in with the other students in their festivities and never hear a word of this pass your lips again!"

Before either one of them could utter a word to change her mind, she had rushed away shaking her head in pure astonishment.

"What do we do now?" Harriet scowled, glaring at McGonagall's retreating back. Hermione pursed her lips.

"Let's follow Quirrell!" Hermione suggested. "He can't do anything if he has three nosy kids tagging along with him!" Ron frowned.

"If Quirrell really is working with You-Know-Who," he sighed, "do you actually think that he'd be afraid of three first-years?" Hermione blinked and then, realizing her foolishness, grinned sheepishly. Harriet could see a plan forming.

"Thats not a bad idea," she said. "But instead of following him, lets just keep him busy: distract him. Maybe we can hold him off taking the Stone until Dumbledore gets back!" Hermione made a disbelieving sound in the back of her throat.

"Would he believe that?"

"Are you kidding?" scoffed Ron. He made his voice high-pitched and girly. "'Professor Quirrelll! Professor Quirrell! I'm not sure about my answer for question fifty-seven!"

Harriet snickered and then, seeing Hermione's look, quickly quieted. "That wasn't funny, Ron," she coughed. "Not at all realistic."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Near the Third Floor Corridor, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

Hermione had not been amused. That was how Harriet had found herself with the least desired spot on their group: guarding the way to the third floor corridor. She bit her lip and shuffled her feet. Despite the fact that she was completely hidden beneath her cloak, she had never felt more exposed. She fingered the small mirror in her hand, waiting for Hermione or Ron to call her.

She heard the sound of footsteps and pressed herself against the wall. Just in time, too, since Quirrell rounded the corner a few moments later. He was walking quickly and mumbling to himself.

"Guys," she hissed into the mirror, speaking quietly and following Quirrell slowly. "I found Quirrell! He's heading towards the third floor corridor!"

"He is?" it was Hermione's voice, frantic and hushed. "Harriet, I'm sorry! I tried to distract him, but he brushed me off!"

"It's okay," she whispered distractedly, watching confused as Quirrell tentatively fingered his turban and rubbed his temples. They were too close to Fluffy's room. There was no time for her to create a diversion of her own. "I'm going to follow him."

"Hang on," it was Ron's voice now. "I thought we said we weren't going to do that!"

"I don't have choice! We can't let him get to the Stone! Maybe I can hold him off for a little bit. I'm no match for him really, though, so see if you can get a message to Dumbledore or McGonagall or Snape, even."

"Are you mental?" demanded Ron.

"You just figured that out?" was Harriet's retort. They were making their towards the staircase now. Harriet began to follow Quirrell as he climbed, careful not to bump into him.

"You're a great witch, Harriet," came Hermione's voice softly over the mirror. Harriet smiled and was about to answer, when she stumbled.  _A trick step_ , she realized, falling forward. She placed her hands out to steady her fall, but the cloak got tangled in her legs. She felt herself begin to fall backward and instinctively placed her hands to cover her head and neck, dropping the mirror on one of the steps and leaving her ribs open to take quite a beating as she fell downwards.

She groaned when she finally hit the bottom of the stairs. "That looked like it hurt."

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the voice. She blinked and began groping around the floor for her glasses. Somebody kicked them toward her and she put them on. They were cracked, but she could still easily identify Quirrell through them.

For once, he wasn't twitching.

She made to get up, but his wand held to her throat stopped her short. "Professor Quirrell," she gasped, "I was just-"

"Following me." It wasn't a question. She couldn't say anything to deny it. He smirked and took a few steps backward, keeping his eyes on her. He reached down to pick up her cloak from where it had landed. Harriet resisted the urge to make him put it down.

"A rather nifty invention," he said, looking at her like the cat who had cornered the mouse, "but rather foolish of you to forget about the step. If you are so desperate to see where I am going, why don't you come with me?" The small smile he had worn on his face dropped when she made no move to get up. He gestured with his wand. " _Now."_

Harriet jumped up, ignoring the pain in her side with the ease that came after years of living with Dudley. She walked ahead of him and began to climb the stairs. She took a deep breath, remembering Hermione once mention to her that, when you were panicked, it was one of the best things you could do, because it would help bring oxygen to your brain. At least, it was something like that. Harriet was having a difficult time remembering.

As she walked, she noticed a bright glimmer on the ground. Her mirror had survived the fall! She could see the faces of both Ron and Hermione glimmering worriedly. She could still feel Quirrell's eyes on her back and quickened her step. Purposefully and deliberately she brought her foot down on the mirror as she climbed the stairs.

"What was that?" demanded Quirrell, pushing her out of the way. She took a step back and revealed the fragments of the broken mirror that belonged on the stairs. Had it been under any other circumstances, she would have cried to see her father's mirror like that, but now was not the time for tears. She looked up at him cautiously.

"It was just a mirror, sir." He mumbled something about vain and silly girls, then lead her further up the stairs.

* * *

**Ron and Hermione, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

"Hermione!" Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she saw Ron, although the ball of fear in her stomach was as large as ever. "Harriet-"

"Is gone, I know," her voice came out shriller than normal, so she tried to calm herself down. "I was hoping it was just on my end," she trailed off and Ron's shake of his head confirmed what she had been afraid of.

"We need to find somebody to help us," Ron decided. Hermione nodded, then her eyes widened. Ron was confused as to why, until her turned around and saw Professor Snape looking at them, eyes narrowed.

"Help you with what?" He sneered. "I hope that this is not another one of your foolish pranks, Mr. Weasley." Ron took in a deep breath. "We all know how well that turned out last time."

"No, sir," Hermione said quickly. "We were just-"

"Just what, Ms. Granger?" Snape demanded. "Not up to no good, I hope. You can't blame me for being a bit suspicious. Two young Gryffindors inside on a day like today?" He looked at them cautiously. "Where is your fearless," he spat, "leader?"

Ron shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to say. Sure, Harriet seemed to trust Snape, but that didn't mean that he did. Hermione was the one who made up her mind first. She blurted out quickly, "I think Harriet is in trouble!"

Snape looked as though he was resisting the urge to snort. "Trouble? What has she done this time? Befriended a giant?"

Ron, taking a cue from Hermione, said, in one breath, "We think that Quirrell has her!"

Snape's expression didn't change, but both Ron and Hermione could sense a definite shift in his demeanor. He looked at them silently for a moment before spinning on his heel and proceeding briskly down the hallway. "Come with me," was his curt explanation.

Both Ron and Hermione exchanged glances before following him

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

_Ron would have loved that,_  Harriet found herself thinking after the most intense chess match she had ever played. She got off of her chess piece with wobbly legs, shaking off the stiffness in her arms, which were achey from having to hang on for so long. Quirrell seemed absolutely fine, albeit a bit pale. Then again, when wasn't he?

Harriet was having a difficult time imagining what other enchantments the Hogwarts professors had cooked up. The Devil's Snare was most likely Sprout, Harriet reasoned, the winged keys were Flitwick's, and the chess set had to have been McGonagall's. That left Snape's, Quirrell's, and Dumbledore's.

Harriet followed Quirrell through the next door and was met with the overpowering smell of rotten meat and dirty socks. She gulped at the sight of the troll in front of her. At least now she knew what Quirrell's protection was.

* * *

**Ron and Hermione, Hogwarts-May 15,1992**

Ron and Hermione sat guiltily in Snape's office. He had brought them here and forced them to explain everything they had figured out. They had expected him to yell at them or lecture them or something, but instead, he had left them sitting alone in their seats, making sure to lock the door behind him.

"Harriet must be in a lot of trouble," Hermione whimpered, "for Snape to leave in a real hurry, like that." Ron shook his head.

"I'm sure she is just fine," he assured her, sounding a lot more calm than he actually was. From what his brothers had told him, it was rare to see Snape lose his composure, so it must have been something pretty bad to make him run out of the room like that.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

Harriet stared with wide eyes at the troll on the floor. Quirrell let out a noise of satisfaction and placed his wand back in the folds of his robe. He no longer needed to worry about Harriet escaping because they were all ready deep within the underbelly of Hogwarts. They had survived dangerous plants, winged keys, and, just now, a very large troll. Quirrell turned to her.

"Impressive, hm?" He chuckled, making the hairs on the back of Harriet's neck stand up and prickling goose-flesh on her arms. "You can say that I have a gift with trolls."

Harriet just nodded weakly, not really sure what to tell him. The only thing she could focus on at the moment was staying alive. So far, she had yet to see a way out of her situation and she didn't think that she was going to see one for a while. Quirrell startled her by yanking her shoulder and pulling her forward through the next doorway.

* * *

**Severus Snape, Hogwarts Owlery-May 15, 1992**

Severus Snape was not a happy man. Granted, he was rarely in a cheerful mood, but at the moment he was even more sour than normal. Potter and her idiotic friends had not, as he had hoped, let the matter of the Stone go, despite Lily's assurances that Harriet was done with her amateur investigations.

To make matters worse, if what Weasley and Granger said was true, that meant the Dark Lord was out there somewhere attempting to regain life. He, like the Headmaster, had always assumed that the Dark Lord would return one day, but he had hoped that it would be sooner rather than later. He had also hoped that Albus would be there when the Dark Lord finally decided to make his return.

 _Not_  doing god-knows-what for the Minister in London!

He eyed the owls in the Owlery. He needed one that was both fast and intelligent, not to mention up to the long journey to London. A flash of white caught his eye: Hedwig, Potter's uncommonly smart owl. He made a move to place the note to her leg, only to have her snap at his fingers!

He fixed her with his trademark glare and went to try again, but the ball of feathers had the audacity to hop away and fix him with a reproachful stare.

"Do you want your mistress to die?" the man hissed, thankful that nobody was here to listen to him talk to a bird. The aforementioned bird gave him a look that clearly said, "Of course not, you idiot." Snape shook the note in his hand. "Then I suggest you let me attach this note to your leg!"

This time, amazingly, the bird held perfectly still, even having the kindness to stick her leg out for him. He worked quickly to fasten the note, knowing that if the Dark Lord really was working with Quirrell, Potter did not have much time to spare. "Get that note to Dumbledore," was his order to Hedwig. "Quickly!"

The owl gave a soft hoot, spread her wings, and soared through the window. Snape himself would have gone through the trap door to stop Quirrell, but with his old master in the picture, the equation changed. Hopefully, the Headmaster would return before things were too late.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

Harriet had to give credit to Professor Snape. Out of all the enchantments they had faced, his was, by far, the most simple, but, at the same time, the most difficult: A row of seven bottles lined up in a row on a table, along with a piece of paper that read:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Plenty of wizards, Harriet mused, as she watched Quirrell mutter to himself and pace back and forth, didn't have an ounce of logic. Harriet was hoping greatly that Quirrell was one of them. Her hopes were dashed when Quirrell confidently picked up the smallest bottle.

"This one," he announced, far too loudly, in Harriet's opinion, "will get us through the fire to the Stone. My master will be pleased."

Harriet shuddered. Since they had first begun to work their way through the enchantments, this was the first time Quirrell had mentioned his intentions and Voldemort. For some reason, it made everything all too real. Harriet felt her heart skip a beat when she realized something. "There isn't enough."

"Excuse me?"

"The potion," Harriet explained, hardly daring to hope, "there isn't enough to get us both across the fire." Quirrell frowned and looked at it, then looked back at her.

"There isn't," Quirrell muttered, "but I can't just leave you here." He scowled and picked up another bottle, shoving it at her. She took it, almost dropping it. She stared at it dumbly, not too sure what to do with it.

"Drink it," Quirrell ordered. Harriet's eyes widened. "Its poison." Harriet resisted the urge to ask him how that was supposed to make her want to drink it, instead looking back down at the flask. She bit her lip, knowing that if she didn't drink the potion, Quirrell would most likely use his wand to kill her, then took the cup to her mouth and took a large gulp.

The first thing Harriet realized was that Quirrell was an idiot. The taste of the wine was too strong to be ignored: Quirrell had chosen wrong. Thinking quickly, she let herself fall to the floor and breathed as lightly as she dared, trying not to move too much.

It worked. Quirrell, thinking her dead, took a gulp of his own potion. Sadly, he had not been wrong with this one, and was able to safely make it through the fire. She stayed on the ground as long as she dared, waiting to make sure Quirrell really was gone, before sitting up straight.

She got up off the floor and moved to the remaining potions. If she could figure out which potion would let her out of the fire, than she could get a message to somebody. She reached for the paper when she noticed something odd. The cup Quirrel had used was full again. She resisted the urge to hit herself upside the head.

Of  _course_  they refilled themselves once they were done. How else would Snape or Dumbledore or anybody else be able to follow somebody through in a situation like this? Thanking Snape's cautiousness, she picked up the potion to take her through the fire.

She stopped for a moment. She had already admitted to Ron and Hermione that she was no match for Quirrell, so what was she thinking, going after him? Nobody else is coming, she rationalized, better me than nobody at all. Harriet drank the potion, almost dropping the cup when she felt a strong chill run through her, and then placed the cup down on the table. Closing her eyes, she leapt through the flames.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the last chamber. Quirrell was standing there, looking very annoyed and just as surprised.

"I gave you the wrong cup, didn't eye?" he said, looking very fearful. Harriet felt her stomach do somersaults as she nodded. What was he so afraid of?

"I know what you are doing!" she told him bravely. She couldn't fight him, but she might be able to keep him talking long enough. Quirrell snorted and looked doubtful, so Harriet decided to prove it. "You're trying to get the Philosopher's Stone for Voldemort!"

Quirrell suddenly looked angry. "How  _dare_  you say his name! You are not worthy to use the Dark Lord's name!"

"He isn't a lord," Harriet said tartly, crossing her arms over her chest, "and he certainly isn't one of mine." Harriet suddenly asked, "Was it you who tried to kill me and jinx my broom?" Quirrell laughed.

"Of course it was! But your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"So Snape  _was_ trying to save me!" Harriet said triumphantly.

"He was," Quirrell affirmed. "Thats why he was so eager to referee your last Quidditch match. Not that your friends thought so," mused Quirrel. "They all thought he was trying to finish you off. Just as I had hoped. Then again, who would suspect P-p-oor s-s-stuttering P-professor Quirrell, when Snape was swooping all about the castle, like the large dungeon bat he is? It was a clever thought to set your snake after me-"

"Isaura!" Harriet exclaimed. "Where is she? What have you done with her?"

"I wouldn't be too worried about her, Potter," Quirrell tutted, "not when your own life is at stake. I am going to have to kill you tonight, you know."

Before she could come up with a retort, Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harriet.

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"You let the troll in, too!"

"Certainly. Like I said, I have a special gift with trolls — you saw what I did to the one in the chamber back there. Of course, your precious little Potions master was not fooled. He headed straight to the third floor in hopes that he might head me off. He had been suspicious of me since the Quidditch match, you see. At least the dog gave his leg a good bite."

"Fluffy," Harriet didn't know what else to say. Quirrell looked at her as though she was insane. "The dog's name is Fluffy," Harriet elaborated. Quirrell scowled.

"Enough of this nonsense, Potter. I need to look at this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Harriet realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"Only that fool Dumbledore would come up with something like this to protect the Stone," Quirrell scowled. His face took on an awe-filled quality. "I see the Stone...I'm presenting it to my Master...but how do I get it? Should I break the mirror?"

Harriet's struggles to loosen the rope ceased as a rasping voice filled the room, seeming to come from everywhere. " _Use the girl."_

Harriet's breathing picked up as Quirrell turned his focus back to her. "Potter, come here!" He said, before loosening the ropes. Harriet shook them off and walked slowly towards Quirrell, trying to figure out where the voice had come from.

"Isaura saw you and Snape in the Forest," Harriet said, trying to buy time. Quirrell let out an impatient sigh.

"Yes," he told her. "He was threatening me-as if I could be afraid of him with the Dark Lord on my side. He warned me not to try anything against you again."

"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," Harriet said, referring to the careful guise she and the Professor had used. She hadn't seen the importance of it before (and she still didn't), but at the moment she was thankful for it, since Quirrell seemed to have forgotten about the stone for a moment. She had stopped walking at this point.

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead." Suddenly, Quirrel let out a loud scream and Harriet jumped backwards as Quirrell clutched the edges of his turban. A few moments later, he stopped, gasping for breath.

"Of course," he muttered, "of course, Master. I apologize, my liege." Harriet's eyes widened.  _Was Voldemort_ _here?_

"Enough of this, girl," he snapped at her. "Come here."

Harriet began to walk forward once again, her mind racing. She didn't know what to do anymore. She knew that if she looked into the mirror, she would see how to get the Stone, since that was, at the moment, what she wanted most, but even if she did manage to figure out where to get it, how would she take it without Quirrell knowing? How would she escape.

Quirrell yanked her forward by her shoulder and held her still in front of the mirror. Although his grip was hard, she felt her eyes tear up not from the bruising hold, but from the sudden shooting pain in her scar.

"Tell me," he hissed, "what do you see?"

Harriet watched the mirror closely. She saw herself: pale and trembling. Suddenly, her reflection was smiling at her. It reached into its pocket and pulled out a small, blood-red stone, held it for a moment, then put it back. Harriet took in a small breath as she felt something very real fall into her own pocket. She had gotten the Stone. Now all she had to do was get out of here alive.

"I...I see me." She began. Quirrel didn't even bother to correct her poor grammar. "I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the house cup for Gryffindor!"

" _She lies..."_ hissed the same voice as before. Harriet frowned. It seemed to be coming from Quirrell's turban.

"Tell the truth!" Quirrel demanded, turning on her before she had another chance to figure out where Voldemort was. "What do you see?"

 _"Let me talk to her,"_  the voice hissed. Quirrell began to twitch again.

"Master," he whimpered, "you are not strong enough-"

"I am strong enough," the voice said silkily, "for this."

Quirrell seemed to take this as an order. Much to Harriet's horror, he began to carefully unwind his turban. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew it wasn't good. She was rooted to the spot, her breath coming in short gasps.

Finally, the turban fell away. Quirrell was facing her, but she could see the reflection of the back of his head in the mirror. Only...it wasn't the back of his head. There was a face. The most terrible face Harriet had ever seen. Even worse than Dudley's. It was as white as a ghost and its red eyes (just mere slits, like its nose) were glaring at her with a hatred that Harriet hadn't even realized was possible.

"Harriet Potter," the face said softly. Harriet heard every word loud and clear, though. "So we meet again."

"Voldemort," Harriet breathed. The face twisted itself into a very odd expression. It took Harriet a moment to realize that it was trying to smirk.

"So you remember me," Voldemort rasped. "Do you see, Harriet Potter? Do you see what I've become because of you? Forced to live off another-like a mere parasite! Unicorn blood sustains me, but it cannot give me my own body. For that, I need something else. Something that rests in your pocket."

Harriet snaked her hand down into her pocket and felt the Stone. It was cool around her fingers. She met Voldemort's eyes. He was waiting expectantly. Harriet shook her head and turned to run, but Quirrell was prepared. In less then a second, the room was suddenly surrounded in flame. Harriet turned around again, so that she might see Voldemort. He was smiling now.

"Don't be fool," he hissed, sounding highly amused for somebody living off the back of somebody else's head. "Why suffer a horrific death, when you can join me and live?"

Harriet felt a surge of disgust well up inside of her. This  _thing_  had murdered her grandparents, tried to murder her, and separated her from her parents for ten years. And yet, Voldemort had the  _audacity_  to ask her to join him? "Never!" She cried, turning around, looking for a way out.

There was none.

Voldemort laughed. "Bravery," he said, "yes, your grandparents had it to. But don't be a fool." He eyed her calculatingly. "Tell me, Harriet, would you like to see your grandmother and grandfather alive once more?" Harriet didn't say a word, giving Voldemort all the answer he needed. "Together," he said, "we can bring them back. All I ask is that you give me something in return."

Harriet pulled it out of her pocket and looked down at it. It wasn't that remarkable a Stone. Surely nobody would blame her if she gave it to him.

Voldemort nodded (as best he could) in encouragement. "Thats it, Harriet. There is no good and evil. There is simply power, and those too weak to seek it! Together, we can do extraordinary things. Just give me the Stone!"

Harriet could see them: her grandmother and grandfather. They were reflected in the mirror and they were looking at her so lovingly... It was her fault they were dead, really... If she could bring them back, they could be a real family again... her mother and father would be so grateful...

It was a thought of her mum and dad that brought Harriet back to reality. Biting down the bile that rose in her throat at the thought that she had almost willingly surrendered to Voldemort, Harriet cried, "You liar! My grandparents are dead!"

"KILL HER!" cried Voldemort, his face twisted into furious mask. In an instant, Quirrell had leapt across the room and his hand circled around her neck. They slammed into the wall and Harriet dropped the Stone.

Her throat was on fire, but even more surprising was that her head felt as thought it might split in two. Gasping, she tried to grab the Stone, in hopes that she might prevent Voldemort from reaching it, but Quirrell's hold was too strong and it lay just out of reach. Her need for oxygen to great to ignore, she reached for Quirrell's hand, hoping to pry it off of her neck. To her surprise, Quirrell let go of her instantly.

He backed away from her screaming and clutching at his hand. Sitting up, Harriet watched wide-eyed as his hand seemed to crumbled. "Gah! What is this magic!"

Harriet looked back and down at her own hands, then back to Quirrel. "FOOL!" yelled Voldemort. "Get the Stone!"

Quirrell reached out and made a grab for the Stone, but Harriet was there to meet him. Acting almost on instinct, she took her hand and reached for his face. Quirrell screamed loudly and Harriet's head pounded as he tried to claw her off of him, but she didn't let go until the pain finally became too much.

Backing away, she watched stunned as Quirrell's face seemed to turn to dust and, before her eyes, he fell, nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Harriet took another step backwards and, once it seemed as though Quirrell was actually dead, she turned around and picked up the Stone, just holding it in her hand.  _All this trouble for such a tiny rock,_  she mused. She was just about to try to figure out how to get out of the chamber, when a soft swishing sound alerted her.

She whipped around and gasped as a gray plume of smoke, with Voldemort's face seemingly in the middle, rushed at her. She screamed as it ran her through, the pain in her head unbearable. She could her somebody calling her name, but couldn't tell whether or not it was real.

She fell down...down...down...

* * *

**The Marauders and Lily, Hogwarts-May 15, 1992**

Remus had never heard Dumbledore sound more grave, save the for the night that Lily and James were attacked. Therefore, it was understandable that he, Sirius, Lily, and James rushed to Hogwarts as fast as they possibly could.

They weren't sure what to expect, but none of them had been expecting to hear Dumbledore's explanation of what had happened between her and Quirrell. As soon as the headmaster let slip where she was, the four made a mad dash for the Hospital Wing, not even waiting to here Dumbledore's explanation for Quirrel's death.

The sight of Harriet, lying on a hospital bed, almost motionless, greeted them. Madam Pomfrey had just finished wrapping some bandages around her badly burned hands. She gave them each a sympathetic smile as they sat down, then closed the curtains around them.

"Oh, Harriet," murmured Lily, beginning to softly run her her fingers over Harriet's bandaged hands. Harriet smiled softly in her sleep.

"What in the world was she thinking?" grimaced James, placing his hand over his wife's. Lily shrugged, honestly not knowing. Perhaps, if they had lived with their daughter longer, they would have some sense of the inner workings of her mind, but, for now, they were just as lost as any other stranger.

"Does Madam Pomfrey know when she is going to wake up?" asked Remus. Sirius shook his head and sighed, shifting his weight on the hard chair, trying to make himself comfortable. They were in for a long wait.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-May 18, 1992**

When Harriet finally realized that she was waking up, she resisted the urge to groan. It had been such a  _deep_  sleep. The deepest she had had in a while, with no aching scars or late-night missions around the castle or dreams of Quirrell and his turban

Quirrell's turban! Voldemort had been hiding underneath! Had it been a dream? No, it wasn't. She needed to make sure that Quirrel had not gotten his hands on the Stone. Harriet struggled to open her eyes. She could see something gold and sparkling through her squinted lids, but she couldn't open her eyes further due to the bright light. The lights dimmed a moment later, allowing her to finally wake up fully.

She found Professor Dumbledore standing over her. She went to say something, but he held his finger to his lips and gestured to the other side of the bed. Harriet turned and saw both her parents asleep in the hospital wing chairs.

"Sirius is with Remus," the old man whispered, pointing to the bed next to them with the curtains drawn, "who is resting after the full moon." Harriet nodded. Her eyes widened when she saw the large stack of gifts on the bedside table.

"From your admirers," Dumbledore explained.

"Admirers?" Harrier asked softly.

"What happened down in the chamber between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the entire school knows." Dumbledore explained, as if it was obvious. "The Weasley twins sent you the toilet seat." Harriet giggled. "Madam Pomfrey tried to confiscate it, but they managed to get it past her." Dumbledore chuckled.

"How long have I been in here?" Harriet asked.

"Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried. As Isaura has been." Dumbledore reached behind her and pulled something off the hospital cot headboard.

"Isaura!" Harriet exclaimed, delighted. For a moment, she worried that she had woken up her parents, but thankfully she hadn't. Harriet took her friend and stroked her head gently, making Isaura hiss with pleasure.

"I found her locked up in one of Professor Quirrell's desk drawers." Harriet nodded at her headmaster's explanation, then gasped, remembering something.

"What happened to the Stone?"

"Relax, my dear girl. The Stone has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Harriet blankly. "But Nicolas Flamel —"

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted.

"He and Mrs. Flamel came over during Christmas break," Harriet said weakly, not quite sure what to make of her headmaster's delight.

"Ah yes," he chuckled. "Remus mentioned that to me. In all honesty, I'm surprised it took you longer. Especially with Ms. Granger giving you a hand. As for the matter, Nicolas and I have talked. We both agree that its for the best."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they? They were so nice..."

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die."

Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harriet's face.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all — the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Harriet was quiet for a moment, not really sure what to say. Then, she took a deep breath.

"Sir?" said Harriet. "Even without the Stone, he'll try and come back, won't he?"

"You mean Voldemort, Harriet?" When she nodded, he sighed. "I am afraid he will, Harriet. I do not know how, or when, but Voldemort is indeed still out there, searching for a way back to life. There are ways..." Dumbledore trailed off for a moment, then looked at Harriet curiously.

"Harriet," he began, do you know why Professor Quirrell could not touch you in the dungeons that night?" Harriet shook her head. "It was because of your grandmother," Dumbledore said gently and Harriet frowned, confused. "She sacrificed herself for you and that love, so pure and strong, left a never fading mark on you."

Harriet reached up and fingered her scar, but Dumbledore shook his head. "No, not like your scar. This mark cannot be seen. It is found within your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Harriet nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made her head hurt. Then she said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me… things I want to know the truth about…"

"There is something else," Harriet began. Dumbledore made no move to deny her, so she took it as a go ahead. "In the chamber, the topic of Snape came up-"

"Professor Snape, Harriet," Dumbledore said gently. Harriet nodded.

"Right, him. I know that he and I have to pretend to hate each other because of Professor Snape's job in the war," Harriet said carefully, not knowing the exact details of that job. Dumbledore nodded. "But Quirrell said that Snape hated me because of my dad. What did he mean? I mean, I noticed that Professor Snape and my father aren't exactly friends, but they don't hate each other, do they?"

"That," Dumbledore sighed, "is a question for your father. All I can tell you is that your father and Professor Snape went to school together. As a matter of fact, they shared a rivalry similar to that of yours and Mr. Malfoy."

"They did?" Harriet said, surprised. Dumbledore nodded.

"Then your father did something that Snape could never forgive." Harriet looked at Dumbledore curiously. "He saved his life."

"From what?" Harriet demanded. Dumbledore shook his head, so Harriet knew that it was something she would have to ask her father. She asked a different question. "But why would that mean that he is supposed to hate me?"

"Your father saved Professor Snape's life, so Snape found himself in your father's debt, which he couldn't bear… I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. That way he could go back to hating your father in peace..."

"So he only tried to protect me because he owed my father?" Harriet felt as though she was going to be sick. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Professor Snape may not like your father, Harriet," Dumbledore said, "but he and your mother were good friends in school. Thus, his relationship with you is a bit more complicated than most."

"Professor Snape was really angry with me," Harriet whispered, "when Hermione and I snuck out of our dorm rooms a few days ago."

"I will not say that he wasn't angry with you, Harriet," he said softly, "but if you talk to him, you might be surprised as to _why_  he was so disappointed with you."

"And sir, there's one more thing…"

"Just the one?" Dumbledore teased. Harriet blushed.

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone — find it, but not use it — would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes… Now, enough questions. I suggest that you wake up your parents. They were most worried about you. And your father and Sirius were very excited to help you get started on these delicious sweets."

Harriet reached over and carefully nudged her father, who was closest to her. He mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake. She nudged him harder, shocking him out of his sleep. He sat up straight and looked around him, bewildered.

"Harriet," he said, sounding so relieved that Harriet wanted to cry. He spoke loud enough to wake up Harriet's mum, who looked just as relieved as he did. After a few minutes where she found herself being comforted by both her parents (during which Dumbledore graciously slid out the door), Harriet's father left and then returned with a Sirius and an exhausted, but happy, looking Remus.

As the hours past, they ate lunch and prodded Harriet, getting her to explain to them what had happened between her and Quirrell. She told them everything, leading up to the point where she had seen her grandparents in the mirror, when she stopped.

"Harriet?" asked her mum, gently. Harriet looked down and fingered the frayed edges of the blanket. "What is it?"

"I wanted-" Harriet tried. "I almost let him have- I thought he could bring them back!" Harriet gasped and she reached up and tried to wipe the tears from her cheek as best she could with her bandaged hand. Her father batted her hands away and did it for her.

"Oh, Harriet, love," said her mother gently. "Its alright. Its okay to miss them. I miss them, too!"

"But its my fault," Harriet denied, curling up into a ball, away from her mother's gentle caresses. "Voldemort said that grandmother gave her life for me. Its  _me_ he wanted. Its all my fault!"

"Harriet Potter," scolded her father, his tone somehow managing to be considerate and scolding at the same time. "We don't ever want to hear you say that again. It most certainly was  _not_ your fault. Your grandparents loved you very much and knew exactly what they were risking that night, but did it anyway. They gladly gave their lives for you, as would any of us in this room."

"But he was after me, wasn't he? Not after you two like Sirius said he was?" Her father and mother said nothing and Harriet recognized the look on their faces as the ones they got when they didn't want to lie to her, but they didn't want to tell her the truth either. Harriet prodded further, "Why was he after me?"

"Harriet," her mum sighed, "Your father and I promised never to lie to you, but we honestly can't answer this question. Not yet."

Harriet went to argue, but her father held up his hand. "When you're older." Harriet frowned, and then nodded.

"So what happened next, Prongslette?" Harriet jumped at the sound of Sirius's voice. He and Remus had been so quiet that she had almost forgotten they were there. Harriet went ahead and finished up the rest of her tale.

She was scolded, as she expected, but not too bad, as her parents were just very happy that she was alright. Her father and Sirius even assured her that they should be able to repair the damaged mirror.

Ron and Hermione also stopped by, letting Harriet introduce  _both_ her friends to her parents officially. She had to explain the story to them as well, although there were all sorts of versions floating around the school. This happened to be one of the rare times where the truth was more shocking than the rumors.

Harriet managed to get a hold of Neville (well, Ron and Hermione dragged him to the hospital wing) and the three were able to explain the true nature of events several nights prior and, after he had been sworn to secrecy, he accepted their apologies and left smiling widely.

Madam Pomfrey eventually kicked them out, leaving Harriet and her family. They wanted to bring her home immediately, but she convinced them to let her stay until the end of term.

Professor Snape stopped by. He also gave her a long scolding, but by the end of it, she was smiling. He didn't need to say it, but whatever he was angry at her for, he had forgiven her. She might have brought it up under different circumstances, but she was just too happy to care.

* * *

**Hogwarts Express-June 3, 1992**

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione made themselves comfortable in their compartment. They didn't say anything as the train began to move, each lost in their own thoughts, watching Hogwarts grow smaller and smaller and smaller. Harriet frowned, knowing that, as happy as she was to be home, she was going to miss Hogwarts. Her thoughts were swimming.

After two weeks in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had said, rather reluctantly, that Harriet could go. Harriet was relieved. After fourteen days of doing nothing but homework and staring at white-washed walls, she was excited for the end-of-year feast. Slytherin had won the house cup, but, in a surprising twist, Dumbledore had awarded Gryffindor enough house points that they had actually won.

Then, right before they had boarded the train home, Hagrid had come up to the three and begun sobbing about how everything was his fault, since he had let slip about Fluffy. It took some time, but they managed to assure him that it wasn't his fault and that they did not blame him in the slightest. He rewarded them with a large, bone-crushing hug.

"This year was nuts," sighed Ron, breaking the silence. Harriet snorted at the understatement. "My brothers always used to tell me these insane stories about their years at Hogwarts-"

"Well, now you can one-up them," Hermione said simply, not bothering to look up from her paper.

"What are you reading?" asked Ron, slightly peeved that she wasn't paying too much attention to him. She huffed, annoyed, and showed them the front page article of the  _Daily Prophet_ , the wizarding newspaper.

"Fudge Denies You-Know-Who's Attempt To Return to Power." Hermione read, skimming the article. "Apparently, rumors haven't just been circulating in Hogwarts. Everybody else is talking about the Stone, too. In particular, the fact that Fudge knew nothing about it and that Mr. Flamel trusted Dumbledore over him. Fudge isn't happy... with Dumbledore or you, Harriet!"

"He can't do anything about it now, though," Harriet shrugged, unconcerned. "I'd like to see him try, anyways. I'm not going to let him ruin the first summer I have with my parents."

"You two will write, won't you?" Hermione asked anxiously, suddenly revealing how much she would miss her friends. Ron laughed.

"You know I won't," he told her. Hermione hit him with her rolled up newspaper.

"Harriet will," she announced, before turning to the aforementioned witch. "Won't you, Harriet?"

"Yea," Harriet said sarcastically, although she probably would end up writing them both very often, "every week." Hermione just shook her head and went back to her paper. Ron and Harriet exchanged grins. She went back to looking out the windows, watching the scenery roll by, then made a vow to herself.

_I'm going to have a lot of fun this summer..._


	13. Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Peter Pettigrew-June 5, 1992**

_Drip..._

_Drip..._

_Drip..._

A nondescript, grey rat scuttled quickly through the storm drain, not letting the foul odor and general unpleasantness of his situation bother him. It would be over soon, he comforted himself. Provided, of course, that Lucius would help. If he didn't...No. He wasn't going to think about the implications.

It wasn't long before the rat emerged from the pipe, blinking in the bright sunlight of the afternoon. Hardly the sort of day for plotting, but the rat didn't really care about that. He had never been picky when it came to that sort of thing, unlike some of his friends ("friends" being used loosely).

He had a sudden flashback where he was romping with a large black dog, werewolf, and stag, in a large field, similar to the yard he found himself in now. He shook off the thought as he scurried into the spacious manor (making sure to avoid the sharp beaks of the peacocks). That part of his life was over.

It was time for a new beginning, which he hoped Lucius could provide. Since the demise of the Dark Lord, Death Eaters were hardly close and rarely kept in touch, so when Lucius had managed to contact him (he didn't even attempt to figure out how; Lucius's resources and influence were unsurpassed among pureblooded wizard families), he had naturally been a bit apprehensive.

But what choice did he have?

None.

Peter Pettigrew was at the end of his figurative rope.

* * *

**Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy Manor-June 5, 1992**

_Tap..._

_Tap..._

_Tap..._

Lucius Malfoy, who was currently waiting in his study and drumming his fingers on the hardwood table, was not a patient man. That being said, had it been under any other circumstances, he would not find himself  _nearly_  so inclined to wait for the rat, but, alas, his plan could not work without him. Shame.

He picked up the tattered diary and looked at with interest. Rather inauspicious, he never could have guessed the power held within its faded pages, had his old master not explained it to him before his untimely demise. Granted, the Dark Lord had not explained to him the mechanics of the enchantment, but few followers of the Dark Lord were privileged with that sort of information.

Previously, he had had no intention of actually  _using_  the diary. Rather, it had been a mere insurance policy: something to cash in on if his influence at the Ministry ever diminished. Which it was. He mentally cursed his cousin (by marriage, he comforted himself, not by blood) and those infernal raids. Unless he wished to lose all of the power he held at the Ministry, he needed to act quickly.

Lucius liked power, after all.

After some careful thinking, he decided now would be a good time to set his plan into motion. Lucius had his reservations that the diary would actually work, but, if he played his cards appropriately, he would be able to gain ten times the influence which he had held previously (at a fraction of the price) and discredit Dumbledore once and for all.

Fudge was on the warpath, furious had having been outwitted by Dumbledore and the old alchemist Flamel. Fudge would be happy to use any means of discrediting the old coot regardless of how morally ambiguous.

If his master's plan actually worked...If he was able to return to life... the Dark Lord's take over would be made infinitely easier with Dumbledore discredited and Fudge (the oblivious idiot) feeling grateful towards him. His Master would be  _thankful_.

But his grand plot was not without a few hitches. The first being that Hogwarts was well protected. There were few ways for him to be able to get the diary inside, and even fewer for the diary to be controlled and opened once inside the castle walls.

Thus, the rat become necessary. He shuddered at having to work with such a spineless, stupid, creature, but the rat had easy access to Hogwarts. He was also completely mindless and, considering the fact that every wall in Diagon Alley was plastered with his WANTED posters, he was also desperate for protection.

Protection that Lucius could provide.

He smirked. Yes, that part of the plan would work out well, assuming that the rat agreed. Which he would. He was nearly as power-hungry as Lucius himself, although infinitely more stupid.

The next part of his plan was a bit harder: he had to do nothing. he had to trust that his master's memory would know enough to be able to pull off his end. He scowled at the tattered page. Trust was not something that came easily to him... especially not of the Dark Lord.

He could wait, though, for a time. If all went well, he mused, Fudge would be crawling to him on his hands and knees and Dumbledore would look like a washed-out, outdated, incompetent Headmaster.

Dumbledore was not Lucius's only problem. There was also the small problem of Dumbledore's "golden girl": Harriet Potter. She had caused quite a stir since her return to the wizarding world, Malfoy sneered. His own son had written to him not a day into his arrival at Hogwarts to complain about her.

Not that Lucius blamed him: she was becoming a thorn in his side, as well. She had already shown herself to be persistent, curious, and stupidly brave. Cursing Gryffindor's and their surprising tenacity, he knew he was going to need something else to keep her busy at the castle. Something rather dangerous.

Perhaps he could convince Fudge to put some things in motion...

A pop alerted him to the arrival of a house-elf. It looked at him with those annoyingly large eyes and rubbed its nose on the grubby pillowcase it wore.  _What was its name?_ Lucius frowned.  _Dumby or Dippy or some other such nonsense?_

"Dobby would like to inform you, Master Malfoy, that you have a visitor."

"And?" snapped Malfoy, not in the mood to be kind to his unpaid servant, "why didn't you show them in, you worthless piece of filth?" The elf's eyes filled with tears, but it resisted the urge to punish itself, dissapparating suddenly, then returning with his visitor, a short, beady eyed man who was looking around him cautiously.

"Peter," purred Lucius softly, gesturing with his arm for the uncomfortable man to take a seat. "Dobby," Lucius turned his eyes to his useless servant, who was anxiously tugging at its overly-large ears, "You are dismissed."

The elf gave an undignified squeak and left. Lucius could hear the banging coming from the other room as it punished itself, but paid it no mind. He turned his steely gaze on the frightened man and smirked at him.

_This was going to be easy._

* * *

**Dobby the House-elf, Malfoy Manor-June 5, 1992**

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

Dobby's head was spinning by the time he had finished hitting himself upside the head with the large book. He carefully placed the book back on the table and sniffed.

 _Dobby does not like being a slave,_  the elf thought mutinously.  _One day, Dobby will be free!_

Dobby always had been a peculiar elf. He knew this. Or, at least, a part of him did. None of the other house-elves he met ever even thought of freedom. But he did.  _All_  the time. He imagined himself working for pay and not having to listen to Master Malfoy.

Dobby didn't want to listen to Master Malfoy. Master Malfoy was a  _bad_  man. He could hear him now, talking with his friend. Fragments of their conversation floated into the foyer, easily picked up by Dobby's large bat-like ears.

"...the Dark Lord's return..."

Dobby frowned. The Dark Lord was a bad man, too. Dobby remembered the days when he had wielded power. They had not been pleasant times for house-elves.

"...Tom Riddle?"

"The Dark Lord's given name. If we can manage to get past the protections at Hogwarts..."

Dobby squeaked in fright. Whoever this visitor was, they were going to try and breach the protections at Hogwarts. Dobby had friends had Hogwarts, other house-elves who were both safe and happy. Dobby knew of Dumbledore's powers, but from what he knew of his master (and he knew a surprising amount), the magic being used was of the sort that no decent wizard would ever dream of using.

"Harriet Potter is a problem..."

"...get rid of.."

Dobby's ears perked up at the mention of Harriet Potter. He had heard of  _her_ , of course. There were few among the wizarding world who did not know her name. Her tale was legend. His master was plotting to hurt Harriet Potter, Dobby frowned. Dobby had never had the honor of meeting Harriet Potter personally, but from what he had heard of other house-elves, she was a brave and noble sort.

Of course, what he had heard from his young Master Malfoy, Harriet Potter was very bad, indeed. He had ranted, when he had first come home for Christmas, that Harriet Potter was "proud and arrogant" and that "the little tart things  _everybody_ should worship her all because of a funny birthmark!"

Dobby had "accidentally" dropped one of Master Malfoy's books on his foot for  _that_  remark. He had to throw himself off of the top of the stairs for it, but it had been worth it.

Dobby refused to believe anything that the Masters Malfoy said about Harriet Potter. It was  _not_ true. It  _couldn't_  be true. She had saved them all from one of the darkest wizards in existence. Now, though, his Master, and a wizard whom he could not identify, were plotting to  _kill_ Harriet Potter. He was  _not_  going to let them. He  _couldn't let them._

Harriet Potter had saved his life, whether she had known it or not. Now, Dobby decided, with a determined flap of his ears, it was his turn to save her.

 _"Dobby!"_ came young Master Draco's voice from his bedroom, " _My room needs cleaning!"_

Dobby grimaced. First, he must go clean Master Draco's room.

 _Then_  he was going to save Harriet Potter.


	14. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Dumbledore's Office-June 9, 1992**

Harriet stared at Dumbledore, not understanding. He didn't seem to mind, though, instead, he simply took another candy from his bowl and waited for her thoughts to catch up with her. She stole a glance at her parents, who seemed as incredulous as she did.

"A trial?" Harriet finally repeated. Dumbledore nodded and Harriet's voice grew more hysterical. "Fudge wants to charge me for trying to steal the Stone and hold a  _trial?"_ It made absolutely no sense.

"Yes," Dumbledore said quietly, obviously not knowing how else to reassure her.

"But surely Fudge knows that it was Quirrell who attempted to try and steal the Stone?" scowled her father, while her mother stroked her hair to try and comfort her. "Quirrell was there! In the chamber!"

"Harriet's story relies on the fact that Voldemort was attempting to return to power," Dumbledore sighed. "Fudge refuses to believe that. He much rather think that Harriet herself was attempting to retrieve the Stone and, when he tried to stop her, murdered Quirrell-"

"Wait, what?" Harriet squawked. It was one thing to be accused of trying to steal the Stone, but it was another entirely to be accused of  _murder_. "I'm not even twelve!" she gaped at Dumbledore. Was Fudge really that stupid?

"I'm not too sure yet how Fudge will mount his defense," Dumbledore admitted, "However, I can assure you, everything will work out. Amelia Bones-"

"Susan's aunt?" Harriet asked, surprised. She had seen the woman only once on the platform and had to admit that she looked to be a very intimidating woman.

"The very same," agreed Dumbledore. "As intimidating as she may seem, she is nothing if not fair. Regardless of Fudge's motives, she will hear you out completely. Do not forget, as well, that I, along with your parents and Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin, will be on hand, along with any other witnesses Fudge may call."

Harriet made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach already come to life. "When is the trial?"

"Fudge has called it for next week." Harriet winced and Dumbledore looked at her over his glasses, his eyes sad. "I am sorry, Harriet."

"Its not your fault, sir," Harriet sniffed, rubbing her nose with the back of her sleeve. Dumbledore gave her a soft smile, but said nothing. Harriet and her parents took that as a dismissal, leaving through the Floo without another word.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor-June 13, 1992**

_The trial is tomorrow. The trial is tomorrow._  Harriet was at a loss to think anything else. She turned over on her bed so that she was laying on her side, allowing her to see the sandwich and glass of water that her mother had placed on her bedside table in an attempt to get her to eat. She wanted to eat (Lord knows, she was starving), but even the thought of food made her stomach churn and her body break out in a cold sweat.

Harriet had been in her bed almost all day, leaving only once to shower, before returning immediately. In addition to her mother, her father had Remus had also stopped by to cheer her up. Sirius, when realizing that she wasn't going to leave her room anytime soon, had transformed and now lay as Padfoot at the foot of her bed.

"Harriet!" It was her mother. "Can you come downstairs? Somebody is here to see you!" Harriet raised an eyebrow and sat up, stretching her stiff muscles. She was extremely curious as to who was visiting her. She wasn't expecting anybody. She turned to Sirius, who had his head up and had perked his ears.

"Do _you_  know who is coming?" she asked him. He shook his head and hopped of the bed, trotting into the hallway. Harriet frowned and followed his path out the door, finding him as a man once again, smoothing out some wrinkles in his clothes. He smiled at her when he noticed that she was out of bed.

He a made a huge show of bowing and offering her his arm. "Shall we, Lady Prongslette?" She resisted the urge to laugh and played along.

"We shall, Sir Padfoot," she couldn't keep her laughter in and let out a few giggles. Sirius pouted at her, making her laugh even more. He lead her to the top of the stairs before letting go of her and dashing downstairs.

"Race ya!" he called over his shoulder. Harriet scowled.

"No fair," she called after him, trying to catch up. "You had a head start!"

She skidding, laughing, into the living room, where Sirius was already waiting for her, smirking triumphantly. She tried to glare at him, but she was too out of breath to say anything at the moment.

"Glad to see you are having so much fun without me," teased a voice. Harriet started then grinned wildly when she realized who the "visitor" was.

"Hermione!" Harriet ran to embrace her friend hugging her fiercely and Hermione was just as enthusiastic. "What are you doing here!"

"Fudge has called me to be a witness in your trial tomorrow," Hermione said carefully, not sure how Harriet would react. Harriet mouthed a silent "oh." Hermione went on. "I didn't really have a way to get the Ministry, so you're parents were kind enough to invite me over for the night." Harriet smiled at her parents, knowing that it wasn't the only reason they had invited Hermione over.

"You don't need to worry, Harriet," Hermione babbled suddenly. "I've been reading up on the wizarding law and there is no  _way_ that they could sentence you to anything more than a few years!" Hermione's eyes widened and she rambled on even more. "Not they would probably convict you at  _all._ As angry as Fudge is, its the Wizengamot that makes the final decision and Dumbledore has been the head of them for a long time so he has a lot of influence! Although, you didn't do anything wrong, so even if he didn't exert any of it, I'm sure you-"

"Hermione!" Harriet cut in, staring at her friend with wide eyes. Hermione stopped talking and took a deep breath, her face flushed from talking so fast. Harriet could hear Sirius laughing behind her, but she ignored it. Again, she wrapped her arms around Hermione for a large hug. "Thank you," she told her friend quietly. She didn't need to say what for. Hermione understood completely.

She simply mumbled a shy, "You're welcome."

For the first time, Harriet fully appreciated Hermione and her friendship. That wasn't to say that she hadn't enjoyed Hermione's companionship before, but she wouldn't deny the fact that she had much rather spend time with Ron, who shared a similar sense of humor, love of Quidditch, and disdain for schoolwork. Not to mention the fact that he had been her first real friend (not counting Isaura, but she was a snake, so that made their relationship just a tad more complicated).

But now, sitting cross-legged on the floor in her bedroom with Hermione, a bucket of popcorn between them, doing each other's nails and sharing laughs, Harriet finally understood what it meant to have a  _real_  girl-friend.

Right now, she wasn't "Harriet Potter: The-Girl Who Lived" or "Harriet Potter: The Freak in the Cupboard." She was just  _Harriet_ , which was who she had wanted to be her entire life.

Harriet scowled and threw popcorn at a particularly teasing comment from Hermione, who retaliated in the same manner. Within a few minutes, the entire room was covered in kernels, each of the girls laughing on the floor, tears streaming down their faces.

"Whats going on-" Harriet's father had stuck his head threw the door to see what all the noise was about, only to find himself hit in the face with a handful of popcorn, courtesy of Hermione.

Hermione sat up, aghast. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter!"

Harriet's father, however, just chuckled and stepped a bit further into the room. "I'm sorry, too, Hermione," he told her gravely, plucking some of the popcorn off his shirt. He chucked them at her, who squealed and threw her hands up to protect herself. "You're aim is awful!"

Harriet laughed and Hermione scowled, mumbling something about how her aim was  _perfect._

"Ah," came Sirius's voice. Sirius had stuck his head into the room as well and smirked at his friend. "Here you are." He took in the girls and the  _TweenWitch Monthly_ between them and grinned. "I know what you're thinking, James, but no tip from a magazine is going to get your hair to lie flat!"

Sirius was gone for the room quick as a flash, with James hot on his heels. Harriet and Hermione couldn't see what happened after that, but a resounding crash and a high yelp from Sirius assure them that Harriet's father had gotten his revenge.

"You're family is mental," Hermione told her friend tactlessly. "Now I know where you get it."

Harriet stuck out her tongue, then Hermione said, "Give me your other foot," she ordered, "unless you want to appear in front of the whole of Wizengamot with uneven toenails." Harriet quieted. In all the fun, she had forgotten why she had been so anxious in the first place.

"Harriet," Hermione sighed. Harriet didn't let her finish though.

"Are they really going to try me in front of the entire Wizengamot?" Hermione didn't say anything for a moment and Harriet worried that she was never going to answer.

"I don't know," her friend admitted quietly after a moment. Harriet wouldn't leave it at that.

"But your best guess?" Harriet begged. Hermione sighed.

"Fudge isn't happy," she told her friend quietly, "and he's trying to pin you for theft and murder. I wouldn't be surprised."

Harriet felt the pure desperation grow in her chest. "Why?" she demanded. "Why can't he just leave me alone? Dumbledore said that Fudge just doesn't want to admit that Voldemort-" Hermione flinched. "-tried to come back, but then why not say that Quirrell tried to steal the Stone to use it for himself!"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know," she said carefully, "but remember, Harriet, these past few months haven't been easy on Fudge. Sirius was released from Azkaban as a free man and revealed that he never got a trial. Nicolas Flamel, a highly respected wizard, trusted Dumbledore to guard one of the most precious artifacts in the history of magic, all under Fudge's nose! He's embarrassed and I suppose that this is his way of trying to save some face. If he can prove that you really tried to steal the Stone, it would make Dumbledore look like an incompetent old man and an unworthy headmaster for almost being outwitted by an eleven year old girl."

Harriet blinked. "Thats the worst logic I've ever heard of."

Hermione snorted. "Nobody said that Fudge was voted into office because of his brains."

Harriet's lips twitched upwards and Hermione did her best not to let her laughter escape. When their eyes met though, neither was able to hold in their near hysterical giggles.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Ministry of Magic-June 10, 1992**

Despite her anxiousness, Harriet couldn't help but notice that the Ministry of Magic was one of the most amazing places she had ever seen, not counting Hogwarts. She stole a glance at Ron and Hermione, both of whom were dressed up in their smartest robes. Judging by their glazed over eyes and their open jaws, they were thinking the same thing.

The were walking down a large, glistening hallway with hardwood floors. If it weren't for her father's hand on her back, Harriet most likely would have walked into something, as she couldn't keep her eyes off of the bright-blue ceiling covered in golden, swirling, ever-changing symbols. She vaguely wondered what they translated into, but, truthfully, she was far too dumbstruck to remember to ask.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed focused on something else: a fountain. The fountain was located about half-way down the hall. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and what Harriet recognized as a House-elf, the last three of which were looking up at the witch and wizard. The fountain's tinkling water added to sounds of the hall: pops of apparition, footsteps, the light hum of conversation...

"What is that?" Hermione screeched, coming to a complete standstill in front of the figure. Harriet and Ron exchanged glances, recognizing the beginning of a patented "Hermione Rant."

"A fountain?" Ron asked weakly. Hermione gave him a glare, making him recoil.

"I know that,  _Ronald,_ " she hissed. "I meant what was  _on_  the fountain! Its deplorable! The way they depict the wizards to be so  _superior_ and make the centaur and the- the- the-" she waved her hand to signify the house-elf and Sirius, realizing that Hermione did not know what the small creature was, supplied it for her.

"A house-elf," he offered. Hermione scowled.

"Right! The house-elf-" Hermione stopped short and looked at Sirius curiously. "Whats a house-elf?"

"A house-elf is a magical creature which is devoted and loyal to the one designated as their master. They serve wizards and witches, and must do everything that is ordered of them, often punishing themselves when they dissatisfy their master." Harriet's mum recited this in a manner that was so similar to Hermione that Harriet looked between the two of them rapidly.

She then turned back to the statue. She had  _heard_  of house-elves, of course, but she had yet to ever see one. She frowned at the worshipful look on the elf's face. She hoped that not all house-elves looked like that.

"Come on," said Remus gently, ushering the children forward. "We don't want to be late-"

"Where are we even going?" Harriet asked curiously. For all her worry about the trial, she hadn't even begin to wonder about where it would be held. Remus raised an eyebrow in slight rebuke of her interruption, so she offered a mumbled apology.

"We are meeting Kingsley Shaklebolt," Remus said. "He'll be taking us to the courtroom." Harriet nodded, feeling a bit better, remembering Auror Shacklebolt calm demeanor and large smile. They met up with him by one of the lifts. He greeted them all with a strained smile, saving Harriet for last.

"Ah, Harriet Potter," he said, offering her his hand, "we meet again. I am sorry that it had be under these circumstances."

"So am I," she muttered to herself, before shaking his hand and thanking him for his kind words. He released her and guided the group away from the stream of visitors towards a set of golden gates. Instead of going through them, Auror Shacklebolt led them to small desk at the side labeled Security.

"Hello, Eric," Auror Shacklebolt greeted the wizard in peacock blue robes. "I have some visitors."

"All of them?" said Eric, sounding highly dismayed at all of the people and the extra work. Auror Shacklebolt just chuckled, amused.

"No, not all of them." Eric sighed, relieved. Harriet, Ron, Hermione, Lily, and Remus all stepped forward and Eric scowled again, looking sourly at the auror. Harriet watched as Remus, the first to move forward. Eric held up a thin golden rod and passed it up and down Remus's back.

"Wand," grunted Eric and Remus cheerfully handed the grumpy wizard his wand.

The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it, which was a set of statistics about Remus's wand.

"Yes," said Remus surely, "All correct."

"I keep this," said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. "You get this back," he added, handing the wand back Remus. The rest of the group passed through security, until only Harriet was left. Eric handed her back her wand after the scan.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Hang on…" Eric said slowly, sitting up and looking at Harriet curiously. His eyes had darted from the silver visitors badge on Harriet's chest to her forehead.

"Thank you, Eric," said her father firmly as Sirius took her by the shoulder and lead her away from the desk and through the gates with the others. Somehow, Auror Shacklebolt managed to maneuver the group through the crowd and into a slightly smaller hallway that was lined with lifts, all guarded by golden grilles.

As they waited in line for a chance on the lifts, several wizards greeted the three aurors and quite a few stared at Harriet's scar. Ron and Hermione, sensing their stares, moved around Harriet, as they often did at Hogwarts, their slightly taller forms doing a pretty good job of blocking the looks.

She shot them each a grateful smile, then frowned.

"Mr. Shacklebolt," she said, trying to call over the hum of the voices. Kingsley shook his head.

"Just a moment Harriet," he said, suddenly disappearing through the crowd of people. For a moment Harriet wondered if he had left them, but a moment later, he appeared, gesturing for them to follow. They did and found themselves ushered into the lift that he had just managed to procure.

"There," he sighed, pressing a button as the doors closed. Harriet felt the lift move upward. "Now, what were you wanting to ask, Harriet?"

"I was wondering, Mr. Shacklebolt-"

"Kingsley," Auror Shacklebolt interrupted. Harriet nodded, surprised.

"Alright, Kingsley," she said carefully. He smiled at her in encouragement, so she decided to continue. "Where exactly are we going?

"Courtroom Ten," Kingsley said quietly. Harriet, seeing the looks on the adults's faces turned back to Kingsley, nervous.

"Whats wrong with Courtroom Ten?"

"Nothing is wrong with it, Prongslette," explained Sirius from the back of the lift. Harriet turned around to get a better look at him. "Courtroom Ten was one of the old courtrooms used after the war to interrogate Death Eaters."

Harriet took in a deep breath and Kingsley reassured her. "Do not worry, Harriet. The methods that were used to interrogate Death Eaters will be  _nothing at all_  like how this trial will work. Courtroom Ten was probably chosen due to its size. It's very big."

"Will a lot of people be there?" Hermione piped up. Kingsley took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said carefully watching Harriet for a reaction. When it was clear that she was not about to break down crying, he continued. "The whole of Wizengamot will be there," Harriet raised an eyebrow at Hermione, whose lips were pursed in a thin line, "along with many witnesses and several reporters."

"Witnesses?" Harriet asked, surprised. She had known that was why Hermione and Ron were here, but she had assumed that they would be it. Kingsley nodded.

"Fudge has summoned about a dozen witnesses forth to either to attest to your character or attempt to determine what truly happened that night."

"How long is this going to take?" It was Ron who asked.

"A good portion of the day," Kingsley admitted, making Harriet's jaw drop.

"What about food!" demanded Ron, indignant. Harriet and Hermione snorted as Kingsley explained to Ron that their would be short breaks for meals. Suddenly, an automated voice called over the lift.

"The Atrium." Harriet took a deep breath as the group was lead outside and down the hall. This particular corridor was both dark and musty, reminding Harriet strongly of the dungeons at Hogwarts. At the end, they met an old witch by a large, grimy door.

"Augusta!" exclaimed Harriet's mum, sounding shocked. Harriet blinked, having suddenly recognized the woman as Neville's grandmother. She was dressed quite a bit differently (in smart, black robes) since the last time Harriet had seen her on the train platform

"I needed to bring Neville here," she explained sharply. Harriet blanched: she hadn't realized that other friends from school were here. Who else? Mrs. Longbottom continued. "I also came to offer my services," she said simply. Harriet frowned and Remus, seeing her frown (and those of Ron and Hermione), leant down to explain.

"Mrs. Longbottom used to be an attorney here in the wizarding world. She was quite good, but went into retirement years ago."

Harriet nodded and looked at her father and mother who were talking quietly with Mrs. Longbottom and Kingsley. Finally, Harriet could see that an agreement had been reached.

"Thank you, Augusta," Harriet's mum said. Apparently, Mrs. Longbottom  _was_  going to be representing her. Harriet's father looked at her concerned.

"Are you ready, Prongslette?" Harriet nodded quickly, knowing that if she thought about what was about to happen, she would probably throw up. Kingsley opened the doors to Courtroom Ten and they were all lead inside.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Courtroom Ten- June 10, 1992**

Harriet had to bite back a gasp as she entered the courtroom and saw it for the first time. The room was large and round, with a high ceiling and grimy walls that reminded her of the Hogwarts dungeons. A lone chair sat in the center of the room. The rest of the room was lined with rows and rows of benches, filled with the shadowy figures of other witches and wizards.

The most prominent seats were situated directly across from the door. Harriet recognized Fudge from his picture in the paper. He was a short, balding man, whose mouth was currently set in a tight frown. Next to him, Harriet could make out the familiar, monocled form of Amelia Bones. Neville's grandmother had taken her seat next to them. There were a young man also there (just out of school, Harriet guessed), a quill in his hand and ready to write.

Harriet felt aher mother's hand nudge shoulder and let herself be lead to a row of benches off to the side of the room. Her eyes having adjusted to the dim lighting provided by the torches, she could make out the familiar shapes of others, including Neville, Madam Pomfrey, and Snape.

She settled down between her parents, with Sirius and Remus to the left next to her father, and Ron and Hermione to the right of her mother. After a few more minutes, where everybody seemed to settle down, an unnatural hush fell over the courtroom as Fudge stood up.

He cleared his throat. "Yes," he muttered, before speaking up a bit, "Well. The Wizengamot has been gathered here today to hear the case of Miss Harriet Lily Potter, who has been accused of the attempted theft of an ancient magical artifact-the Philosopher's Stone-and the murder of Professor Quirinus Quirrell. Testimony will be heard from about a dozen witness from each side, at which point Wizengamot will make a decision as to Miss Potter's innocence or guilt. Let the record show that this trial has officially begun.

Fudge sat down and Amelia Bones called the first witness.

"Healer Bernard Barkleberry."

* * *

**Bernard Barkleberry, Courtroom Ten- June 10, 1992**

Harriet bit her lip as the older gentleman carefully made his way to the chair in the center of the room. The chains attached to it shuddered ominously, as if contemplating whether or not he needed to be restrained, before stilling, obviously deciding that he was no threat. The man visibly let out a sigh of relief.

"Please state your name," Madam Bones said firmly. The man fiddled with his collar, sweat beading on his brow.

"Bernard Barkleberry," he said, his voice choking a bit over the last syllable. Amelia Bones raised an eyebrow at him.

"And what is it that you do?"

"I'm a healer," he said, as if unsure of it himself. He placed his hands back in his lap and fiddled with them nervously. "I work at St. Mungo's. In the mental ward."

"Right," Madam Bones nodded, glancing down at a piece of paper. "You have been summoned here today to give your professional opinion on the effects of the Killing Curse on a person's mental health."

From the stands, Harriet almost made to stand up, indignant.  _That_  was their defense? That the Killing Curse had somehow made her insane? Harriet wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry. She decided that both would be appropriate in this situation.

"Yes," Healer Barkleberry affirmed. He sounded a bit more confident at this point.

"And what is your professional opinion?" asked Fudge eagerly. Madam Bones gave him a warning glare, silencing him. Barkleberry watched the exchange for a moment, before clearing his throat in an attempt to get rid of the tension.

"My professional opinion," he began carefully, as though he were waiting for Madam Bones to glare at him, "is that it is entirely possible-even  _likely_ -that the Killing Curse has had some sort of adverse effect on Miss Potter's mental state."

"Right," said Augusta Longbottom drily, "and you know this because we have so many other survivors of the Killing Curse from whom you can draw your conclusions."

Barkleberry stuttered as Madam Bones tutted a warning to Mrs. Longbottom. "Now hang on," he argued. "Just because we may not have a case such as Miss Potter's, does  _not_  mean that my conclusion is any less sound!"

"And what makes you say that, Healer Barkleberry?" asked Madam Bones, cooly.

"Well," he began, "all we truly need to do is look at other examples of the effects of Unforgivables on wizards and witches. The Imperius Curse, for instance, can do great damage to the minds of its victims, especially at the hands of a very strong wizard."

"And not to mention the Cruciatus Curse," said Fudge bitingly. He gave Mrs. Longbottom a scalding look. "But I am sure you would know  _all_  about the effects of  _that_  particular curse."

Mrs. Longbottom drew herself upwards, obviously stung by his comment, the reasons for which Harriet did not understand. The courtroom filled with angry hisses (including some from her parents) and even  _Snape_  seemed to think that Fudge's words had gone too far.

"Thank-you for your testimony, Healer Barkleberry." Madam Bones spoke sharply. " You may step down. Madam Pomfrey, if you would please approach?"

* * *

**Madam Pomfrey, Courtroom 10- June 10, 1992**

"My name is Madam Poppy Pomfrey," the older woman said confidently. "I have been running the Hogwarts hospital wing for over twenty years."

Madam Bones gave her first true smile of the day, apparently familiar with the healer from her own days at Hogwarts.

"Madam Pomfrey," she began calmly, "You are called here to testify regarding Harriet Potter's mental state. You examined Miss Potter the day her parents went to retrieve her from her relatives, correct?"

"Yes," she said simply. Madam Bones nodded firmly then looked back down to the paper in front of her. "And what did you find?"

Harriet felt her heart skip a beat. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to tell them what her scans had revealed, right? She might not have known much about how medical scans worked, but somebody as thorough as Madam Pomfrey couldn't have missed the sure signs of evidence of the Dursley's treatment of her.

"That information is protected by doctor-patient confidentiality." Madam Pomfrey answered. Harriet let out a deep breath she hadn't even realized that she had been holding. She felt her mother give her hand a light squeeze of comfort.

"We have received special permission from the Wizengamot to override such confidentiality," Fudge told her triumphantly.

"Only for information that is relevant to the current case!" Madam Pomfrey chided fiercely.

"You are correct, Madam Pomfrey," said Madam Bones, interjecting. "Let me rephrase my question. We have just heard testimony from Healer Barkleberry regarding the possibility of the after effects suffered by Miss Potter due to the Killing Curse. Did you find anything in your examination pointing to anything of the sort?"

"No," Madam Pomfrey informed her. "Miss Potter showed no signs of any mental damage or derangement. She was one of the most cooperative patients I've had in awhile. So polite!"

Harriet turned bright red as more than a few of the heads in the room turned toward her, some of the faces wearing small smiles.

"How did you know what to test for?" Fudge pointed out gleefully. "We've never had another survivor of the Killing Curse." Madam Pomfrey shot her the stern glare that had quieted braver men than Fudge.

Harriet wondered if Madam Pomfrey had also noticed that Fudge was contradicting himself regarding the reliability of using the other Unforgivables as a mark for the effects of the Killing Curse.

"I tested using the same standard as I do for the other Unforgivables," she told him sternly. "I also tested for  _any_ abnormalities, psychologically speaking. There were none."

Madam Bones nodded and Fudge scowled further. Madam Bones dismissed the healer and called for the next witness.

"Neville Longbottom," Madam Bones called. "Please approach."

* * *

**Neville Longbottom, Courtroom 10- June 10, 1992**

"M-my name is N-Neville Longbottom," Neville stammered, looking incredibly flustered by all of the eyes on him. Harriet tried to catch his eye and give him a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem to help much.

"Mr. Longbottom," began Madam Bones, "we have called you here to help shed a bit more light on Miss Potter's character." She smiled kindly at him. "We are just going to ask you a few questions, alright?"

Neville nodded slowly.

"Alright. When did you meet and Miss Potter first meet?"

"We first met on the Hogwarts Express," Neville offered. Madam Bones nodded for him to continue. "I didn't talk to her for very long-didn't even know her name. I was just looking for Trevor, my toad. I asked her and Ron-er, Ron Weasley, who was there, too-if they had seen him. They said they hadn't, so I left."

"I see." Madam Bones nodded. "But you got to know her a bit better in instances after that, correct?"

"We were sorted into the same house," Neville offered, "and we had some classes together. She-" he paused for a moment, his nerves seeming to catch up with him. "She offered to partner with me in Potions...It's not really my best subject, you see?" He told Madam Bones with a sheepish smile. Snape gave a snort of amusement, which Madam Bones thankfully pretended not to notice.

"I felt bad about her having to put up with me, so I told her I'd help her in Herbology."

Madam Bones nodded. "And this academic partnership is the extent of your relationship with Miss Potter?"

"Well," Neville said, "we see each other in the common room and stuff. Harriet's always been really nice to me. She stands up for me when other people make fun of me, and is always trying to boost my confidence and stuff..." Neville trailed off, blushing brightly (although not nearly as red as Harriet was turning).

"Tell us about the dragon incident," Madam Bones said gently. Neville frowned for a moment, not seeming to understand her. Recollection dawned on his face after a moment.

"Oh," he said, suddenly more nervous. Harriet felt her heart speed up. Neville had promised to keep the true nature of "the dragon incident" a secret, but did that extend to court? Hopefully it did. The last thing she needed was adding illegal dragon smuggling to her already growing list of charges.

"That was just a misunderstanding," Neville muttered, seeming to try and sink into his chair.

"Can you clarify?"

"Sure," he said. He didn't say anything for a minute though, seemingly lost in thought. Madam Bones and Neville's grandmother both seemed rather patient, but Fudge looked about ready to burst.

 _Wait another minute, Neville,_  she silently urged.  _If Fudge blows up, all my problems will be gone!"_

"Harriet never got along with Malfoy-ah, Draco, sorry." Neville began, stumbling. "House rivalries and all," he smiled weakly. "They were always bickering and trying to outdo each other and that-that sort of thing." Harriet felt a surge of gratitude towards Neville. He was trying to tell their made up tale and still shed her in as flattering a light as possible.

"Malfoy had already tried tricking Harriet and Ron into leaving the dorm after curfew," here, Neville shot Harriet an apologetic look, knowing that the crime they had managed to get away clean with had now been aired out to dry, "so Harriet and Ron and Hermione thought that it might be a good idea to try and get even. Thats when they came up with a story about an illegal dragon."

"And Mister Draco Malfoy believed it?" Madam Bones pressed. Neville nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, he did. Their plan worked, but a little too well." Neville let out a weak chuckle and began to play with his hands. "I b-believed the story, too. I-I overhead Malfoy talking about getting Harriet and her friends in trouble, s-so I tried to track them down and stop them."

"Thats when you all got caught," Madam Bones finished, leaning down to scribble something in her notes, frown on her face.

"It wasn't Harriet's fault, though!" Neville protested, suddenly sounding more confident than he ever had before. Harriet suddenly realized that Neville, although a bit bumbling and clueless at times, was a  _good_  friend. "She didn't mean for any of us-even Malfoy- to get into that much trouble!"

"And even after that incident," demanded Fudge, "you still believe Harriet Potter to be your friend?"

Harriet winced.

"Yeah," Neville said quietly. Harriet took a deep breath in and managed to exchange gleeful looks with Ron and Hermione. "I was really hurt, at first. Then Ron and Hermione dragged me down to the hospital wing and they all explained to me what had happened. I know I'm not as close to any of them as they are to each other, but...yeah. I still think Harriet is my friend. Ron and Hermione, too."

Harriet was almost jumping up and down in her seat at this point. Only her father's hand on her shoulder kept her still. Ron had a huge grin on his face, as well, and Hermione looked both very smug and very pleased.

Fudge, on the other hand, looked sour. Madam Bones thanked Neville and dismissed him. When she called the next witness, Fudge looked infinitely more hopeful.

"Draco Malfoy, please approach."

* * *

**Draco Malfoy, Courtroom 10- June 10, 1992**

"She's absolutely  _awful!"_

Those were Draco's first words as he took a seat in the center of the courtroom. Harriet resisted the urge to hex him (that is, if she could actually learn how; they hadn't gotten that far in Defense).

"You mean Miss Potter?" Madam Bones questioned, after taking a moment to recover from his outburst. Draco nodded fervently.

"Please, Mister Malfoy," Fudge implored, failing in his attempt to not sound too eager, "Tell us more!"

Draco seemed all too eager to oblige. He began listing all of her faults: from her bragging, to her attention-seeking ways, to all of the special treatment she enjoyed. His testimony  _might_  have been somewhat useful to Fudge, had Malfoy not made a mistake.

"She smuggled in that illegal dragon, too!"

Harriet could almost hear Fudge cursing Malfoy out in his mind.

"The illegal dragon?" said Madam Bones, amused. "Are you referring to the prank pulled by Miss Potter and her friends?"

Draco gaped like a fish. "It wasn't a prank! There was an actual dragon!" He protested loudly.

Harriet heard some tittering from the crowd, and she resisted the urge to giggle herself. Malfoy looked like an indignant puppy. "It's true!"

"Mister Malfoy, a ministry investigation has already established that  _there was no dragon."_

"But-"

"Enough!" Madam Bones said sharply. Malfoy was silent. "These proceedings will take long enough without you sprouting this drivel for the court to hear. Thats enough. You are dismissed."

Still grumbling about the fact that there  _was_  a real dragon, and that  _no_  he hadn't been imagining things, Malfoy hopped off of his seat and shot Harriet the meanest glare he could muster. Harriet scowled back.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Courtroom 10-June 10, 1992**

The interrogations continued in this manner for the rest of the day. After Malfoy, Madam Bones called Remus to the stand, followed by Sirius. At first, Fudge seemed determined to bring in Remus's lycanthropy and Sirius's jail record, but Madam Bones quickly put a stop to his line of thought. According to Madam Bones, they were both being questioned to learn more about Harriet's character, not to unearth skeletons from their closets.

(No guesses there about how they testified.)

Sirius left the stands, glaring quite harshly at Fudge. Next, Harriet's parents were called collectively to the stand. Madam Hooch first told them how happy she had been when she heard that they were awake. Then, they were both asked to confirm that Harriet had written to them about her search for the Stone

("She didn't know what it was when she was looking for it!" They had protested.)

Harriet was worried when Snape was called up to the stands-he was supposed to act like he hated her, after all. She was stupid to be so anxious. Snape played his part brilliantly. He made sure to emphasize the fact he could not stand her, but that she was "far too incapable of pulling off such a heinous crime." He also added that, although he thought her to be an "obnoxious, spoiled, little girl," she was "not nearly as lazy or arrogant as her father and his band of troublemaking idiots."

(Harriet got the impression that he was enjoying this far too much.)

McGonagall came next, offering her explanation of the events that had lead up to the theft of the Stone, beginning with the point in time when Harriet, Ron, and Hermione had run up to her in the hall and informed her that somebody was trying to steal the Stone.

("If only I had taken them seriously," McGonagall had lamented as she went to take her seat in the stands once again.)

Dumbledore's testimony considered mostly of his agreement with Nicholas Flamel, confirmation that he had received an urgent letter from the Ministry requiring his immediate presence, and a statement that only somebody who wanted the Stone-but not to use it- could have taken it from the mirror.

(His eyes never stopped twinkling. Harriet wondered how he did that.)

As Harriet had expected, Hermione's testimony was filled with facts and detail-a typical Hermione response to everything. This might have been a sign of grace under pressure, but Harriet knew better. When Hermione was nervous, she had a tendency to overanalyze  _everything._

("Really this trial is completely ridiculous. Under the precedent set by Mulligan vs. The Wizengamot in 1927-" Harriet tuned her out after that.)

Ron's testimony outlined the same events as Hermione, with less detail. Unlike Harriet's other friend, he had a tendency to stumble over his words more, but, other than that, his story never changed.

("We  _did_  try to go to a teacher! We went to Professor McGonagall! Then we tried Headmaster Dumbledore-no wait, we tried to go to Dumbledore first. Then, after Harriet was taken, we went to Snape-I mean,  _Professor_ Snape.")

Finally, it was Harriet's turn.

"Harriet Lily Potter," she said, her voice wavering just a tad as she gave her name for the court. She prayed that nobody noticed (at least, if they did, they didn't comment.)

"Yes, Miss Potter," said Madam Bones firmly. "You are brought here under the charges of the attempted theft of a magical artifact, the attempted murder of-"

"I know the charges," Harriet interrupted. "I rather not hear them again," she said with a small smile. Madam Bones returned it, albeit hesitantly, and nodded, "Understood."

"Now, Miss Potter, why don't you start from the beginning?"

Harriet did. She told the court about how she had first met Fluffy and how they had figured out that the dog was guarding something. She described how they had made the connection with Nicholas Flamel ("I really did see him on a Chocolate Frog Card!" she insisted amidst chuckles). She described going through the trapdoor with Quirrell, his mistake with the potions, and, finally, her confrontation with Voldemort.

"He was there!" She protested, "on the back of Quirrell's head!  _He was there!"_

 _"_ The Dark Lord isn't back!" Fudge roared, as the courtroom erupted into a frenzy.

"I'm not saying he's back," Harriet sighed, with the exasperated-ness that only a soon-to-be twelve year old could manage. She rolled her eyes for good measure. "At least, not of all him. Just his face, rather. And thats gone by now, too."

Madam Bones banged heavily on the stand with her gavel.  _They have those in Wizard Courts, too?_ Harriet mused.

"Alright, alright, alright." She said firmly. "Miss. Potter, we understand that you believe You-Know-Who to be back, but is it possible that you were mistaken?"

"You haven't been listening," she scowled, annoyed, forgetting all manners that Aunt Petunia had shoved down her throat when she was little. "He isn't back-"

"Yes, just his head-"

"-Actually it was his face-"

"-but is it possible you were mistaken?" Harriet gaped. Could she have been  _mistaken?_ She had stared into his eyes! She had  _felt_ his hands on her throat! He had tried to kill her in the forest! But obviously, nobody was going to believe  _that_ story. And she was  _far_  too young to be arrested.

"I guess so," she muttered quietly. Madam Bones nodded.

"Fudge, I find it highly unlikely that Miss Potter attempted to the steal the Stone. It is far more likely that Quirrell attempted to steal the Stone and Miss Potter's actions were simply self-defense. The trauma of the situation must have caused her to invent this ludicrous story of You-Know-Who's face. lAll in favor of dropping the charges, please raise your hands."

Harriet felt as though her heart was in her throat. She watched, not daring to blink, as hands slowly lifted into the air.  _Thats more than half!_ She let out a giddy giggle as Madam Bones banged her gavel. "Case dismissed."

Harriet made to get up and embrace her parents, but she was stopped by Fudge's voice. "Wait! There is still the matter of Harriet's custody!"

"Harriet's what?" she echoed, settling back in the chair as an unnatural hush fell over the courtroom.

"Harriet's parents allowed her to get close to a potentially dangerous magical artifact! Had they kept a closer eye on her-"

"You can't seriously be suggesting," demanded Neville's grandmother, "that you separate Harriet from her parents so soon after they were reunited?"

"Under normal circumstances, a full investigation would be launched! We cannot neglect our duties simply because of their 'special' circumstances!" Fudge retorted smugly. Madam Bones seemed incapable of speech for a moment, before finally letting out a resigned sigh.

"He's right." Harriet saw her parents try to rise from their seats, but they were held down by Sirius and Remus. Ron was glaring at Fudge with all the muster he held in his twelve year old body. "In in the interim, Miss Potter can reside with her godfather, Sirius Black-"

"An ex-convict who was just released from Azkaban! Hardly a good role-model!"

"Fine," said Madam Bones, too tired at this point to argue with Fudge's ridiculous demands. "Mr. Lupin is a good family friend-"

"And a registered lycanthrope!" snapped Fudge. Members of the courtroom who were friends with Remus hissed at Fudge.

"Then who would you reccomend?"

"The Dursleys. Miss Potter lived with them for ten years. I'm sure she would be perfectly happy with them for a few months."

"Now wait just a moment-" Harriet's father cried, jumping up from his seat, as the ruling was passed. The courtroom seemed to be reigned with chaos from that point on. Reporters snapped pictures, Augusta Longbottom berated Fudge, Harriet's family protested vehemently. All Harriet could do, however, was sit in her seat and try not to cry.

_So much for a great summer._


	15. Half Truths and Broken Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. As usual, I own nothing.

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- June 10, 1992**

"You can't let his happen!"

"She is not stepping foot in that house, even if I have to kidnap her myself!"

"Albus-"

"Augusta!"

"Can somebody please pass the sugar?" Harriet asked over the din of the room. For a moment, silence fell over them all, and Harriet relished it. The moment that her mother handed her the pot of sugar for her tea, however, the roar in the room rose again, pounding in her ears.

Harriet groaned and placed her head between her knees, not even bothering to try her tea. She wasn't in the mood for it anyways.

After the chaos of the trial, Harriet, her parents, Dumbledore, Augusta, Remus, Sirius, Ron, and Hermione had all returned to Harriet's house, which explained the particularly large amount of conversation. Harriet and her two friends were seated side-by-side on the couch as the adults argued and bickered and generally tried-but-failed to come up with a solution to their predicament.

"I still don't understand why you didn't prosecute them immediately," Neville's grandmother griped. "It would have saved us a lot of trouble."

Harriet's mum glared at her sharply. "We meant, too, but we were just so happy to get Harriet back. Then she went away to school and this whole Stone business started..." She trailed off. Augusta gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm.

"Don't worry, I am sure we can figure something out."

"If we don't, there's always Sirius's kidnapping idea," commented Remus drily from his position in the corner of the room. Sirius scowled at his schoolmate.

"Alright," he conceded after a moment, "not my best plan. But can you blame me for being a bit panicked?"

Harriet looked down at her tea as silence once again fell over the room. She hated causing people trouble- especially people she cared about so deeply. She bit her lip and glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Hermione was primly sipping her tea, while surreptitiously glancing at Harriet worriedly. Ron, on the other hand, was simply stuffing himself with the finger sandwiches that Harriet's mother had laid out.

"Maybe somebody could stay with her?" Lily suggested. "With a bit of charms work, we could make the house larger-"

"No contact between Harriet and the magical community is to occur over the during the investigation without Ministry approval."

"There goes that idea," James said, wringing his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry," Augusta said, "but their ruling is sound. We have no grounds for a complaint."

"Of course we do! Those ba-" Sirius choked, recoiling under Lily's glare. "Ah,  _jerks_  treated her like sh-  _cra-_ ** _garbage_  **for ten  _fu-_  Blimey! This is hard!"

Dumbledore gave a sympathetic chuckle. "If we submit charges against the Dursleys, it will take at least a few weeks. As much as it pains me, for the time being, we have no choice but to send Harriet-"

"No!" Harriet's father protested, jumping up from his seat. "She is  _not going back to that place!_ Not for a few weeks, not for a days- not for a few  _minutes,_ damn it!"

"Its okay, dad," Harriet offered. Everybody turned their incredulous gazes at her.

"No," her father said after a minute. "It isn't ' _okay.'"_

Harriet sat up straighter, feeling just a tad insulted. "Why not? I lived there for ten years. I think I can handle a couple of weeks."

"No. You can't." He told her curtly. She scowled. "Why not?"

"Because." He muttered, tugging at his already messy hair."

"Because why?" she prodded, determined. If her staying at the Dursleys' was the easiest course of action, she wanted to know why her father was so against it. He turned around to face her and she could see that his eyes were slightly red.

"Because I promised you!"

Harriet blinked.

_"We're sorry that you had to go live with them, but I promise that you will never have to go live with them again."_

Harriet bit her lip. "It'll be okay, dad."

Her father didn't say anything, just continued his pacing. Augusta gave Ron and Hermione a look, ushering them out of the room, along with herself, Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore. Harriet's parents both sat next to her, neither of them said a word.

She felt an arm wrap around her neck and leant into her father's embrace, shifting her position to allow herself to bury her face in his chest and wrap her arms around him, too. Her mother rubbed soothing circles on her back.

The three of them simply sat that way for a long time, each trying to accept the hand that fate had dealt them.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey-June 12, 1992**

**"** Thought we'd finally gotten rid of you."

Those were the first words Vernon Dursley sneered when Harriet stepped foot into his house a few days later.

 _Nothing has changed then._ Harriet bit back a sigh and looked around. The foyer looked unchanged. She turned back around to look at her uncle, who was eyeing both her parents and their two friends with distaste as they entered the house.

"Lets make this quick," her father said firmly. "We don't want to be here. You don't want us here. But before we get started, we are going to get one thing straight: You will treat us with respect. If you so much as  _think_  the word "freak," we will hex you into oblivion."

Vernon grunted and led the four other adults into the kitchen for paperwork. Harriet was left standing awkwardly in the hall for a minute until her aunt emerged from the living room, wringing her hands.

"You'll be staying in Dudley's spare room," she told Harriet. Her voice just  _dared_  Harriet to protest these living arrangements. Harriet tried to put a thankful smile on her face, but it probably just came out as a grimace.

Harriet headed upstairs, taking two steps at a time. As she passed by Dudley's room, the door opened a crack and Dudley's beady eyes peered out. The moment he saw her, however, the door slammed shut. Harriet stifled a giggle and walked into her room for the next few months.

Back when Harriet had still lived with the Dursleys, this particular room had been Dudley's second bedroom. Any of Dudley's broken toys, forgotten books, and outdated video games were carelessly thrown into this room.

She could tell that the Dursleys had made  _some_  sort of attempt at clearing it up (no doubt afraid that Harriet would turn them into a balloon if she didn't), but the room was still a far cry from her room back home.

 _Better than a cupboard,_ she decided, dropping her rucksack on the cot that had been added to the center of the room. She recognized it as the same one she used to use in her cupboard, but it looked as though Aunt Petunia had cleaned it and thrown the sheets in the wash, along with some new bedding. She sat down heavily and let out a sigh. She had a feeling that she was going to be very lonely while she was here. They had managed to get Ministry approval for her to contact both the Weasleys and Hermione's family, but that was it. Any contact with her family would have to be made through them or unofficially with the help of the mirrors.

Harriet stood up and walked over to the window. She tried to open it, but it was a bit stuck. She gave it a hard tug and almost fell over backwards when it gave. Harriet stuck her head outside and looked around, making sure that Hedwig would have enough room to get out.

She shut the window and moved back to the center of the room, intent on tracking down her parents, but a small creak below her feet brought her to a standstill. She crouched downwards and lightly tapped the floorboard. Hearing a slightly hollow sound, Harriet began to try and pry it open. It took a few failed attempts, but, eventually, the floorboard opened loosely. She squeaked indignantly as she flew backwards, landing on her butt.

Crawling back up, she felt a smile spread across her face as she looked at the loose space she had uncovered.

 _Better not let the Dursleys see this,_  she resolved, running her hands over some of the corners to remove some of the cobwebs.

"Well, well, well!" Harriet jumped and looked up, breath caught in her throat. She let it out when she realized that it was just her parents: her aunt and uncle nowhere in sight.

"Good eye, Prongslette," her father congratulated. She smiled at him appreciatively as he squatted down next to her to help her put the floorboard back in place.

Her mother took out her shrunken bag and trunk from her pocket, placed them on the floor, and returned them to their normal size. She nodded, satisfied. "There."

Harriet's father took the opportunity to look around the room. "Not too shabby," he muttered. Harriet nodded in agreement. Harriet' mother sat down on the bed and gestured Harriet over to her. Harriet and her father followed.

"It will only be for a little bit, Harriet," her mum said. Harriet nodded, not sure if she was reassuring herself or Harriet. "You'll be home before you know it."

"We've talked to the Dursleys," her father took over, when he realized that his wife was having a hard time keeping herself together, "and they've assured us that you will be treated with the utmost respect while you are here."

Harriet was skeptical, but decided that it was best not to say anything.

"Of course, if they don't, then you could always threaten to curse them," commented Sirius from the doorway. Remus, who was standing next to him and holding Hedwig's cage, shook his head exasperatedly.

"Underage wizards aren't allowed to use magic."

"Yes, thank you, Remus.  _I know that,_ but the Dursleys don't!"

Harriet's dad chuckled appreciatively, then grew somber. "We need to go."

Harriet nodded quietly, not really sure what to say. "Take care of Isaura for me?"

"Of course, love," her mother assured her. Harriet gladly let herself be wrapped up in a large hug.

They all gave their final farewells and, with a pop, were gone. Harriet sat down on the bed again.

The room was quiet, save Hedwig's soft hoots of comfort.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey-June 29, 1992**

Harriet had been at the Dursleys' house for a week. She had thought that, having lived with them for ten years, she would have very few problems now, but her short time with her parents, and then at Hogwarts, had spoiled her.

Her aunt, uncle, and cousin had all taken her magical items and stuffed them underneath the cupboard under the stairs. Harriet had managed to salvage her wand, her magical mirror, a Quidditch book, some paper, and a quill by stuffing everything under the floorboard (it had taken quite a bit of squeezing).

Poor Hedwig had been locked in her cage almost 'round the clock. The only way Harriet managed to stay in touch with the magical world was with her father's mirror. Ron and Hermione had been fantastic. Every time she called them, they were more than happy to insult the Dursleys with her.

She didn't tell them  _everything_ of course. She doubted that they would be happy to learn that she had taken up her old post as maid for the Dursleys.

Harriet stopped her work in the garden and took several deep breaths. The sun was beating down heavily on her and her back was aching from all the time she had spent crouched in the garden. When the Dursleys had assigned her this job, she had considered using magic to threaten Dudley to do it, but she decided that she should save that for another occasion.

She blinked, several times, to clear her vision.  _I must be going insane. That bush is staring at me._

Harriet glanced around furtively, before picking up her shovel and walking cautiously towards the bush. Two large, amber eyes stared back at her, unmoving. She went to take another step forward, but her Aunt's shrill voice called her inside.

She instinctively turned around, then, realizing that she shouldn't have taken her eyes off of the bush turned back around. The eyes were gone.

Imagining many different (and colorful) ways of killing her aunt and uncle, she trudged back to the kitchen. All three of her relatives were gathered there.

"You, girl," her uncle snapped as fiercely as he dared. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him to signify that he held her attention...or at least some of it. The rest of her attention was focused on Dudley's trousers, which were quickly slipping off of his fat bottom.

"Today," Harriet focused back on her uncle, "is a very important day in my career. This time next year, we could be vacationing in Florida."

"And by 'we' you mean 'you,' right?" Harriet clarified, although it was really unnecessary. "Not me."

Uncle Vernon bared his teeth and didn't bother to dignify her question with a proper answer. "While the Masons are here, I expect you to be in your room, understood? Even a peep out of you and you can forget about staying with us any longer. Are we clear?"

Harriet nodded, resisting the urge to tell him that she would do anything in the world (including making various "peep" related noises) if it meant that she no longer had to stay in this ridiculous household.

At her Uncle's nod of dismissal, Harriet raced up to her room and locked the door. She would no doubt be called back downstairs to help Aunt Petunia prepare dinner, but, for now, she could take the time to talk to Ron and Hermione.

She pulled her mirror out from the floorboard and softly called their names. It took a moment, but each of them eventually showed their faces.

"Harriet!" they chorused, making Harriet laugh as she greeted them.

"How are the Dursleys treating ya, mate?" Ron asked as he settled down on (what looked to be) his bed. Harriet shrugged.

"Not too badly. They haven't called me Freak once since I've been here, which is a definite improvement."

Hermione winced. "Is that really what they used to call you?"

Harriet opened her mouth to speak when some odd movement in the corner of the mirror caught her eye. It seemed that both of her friends noticed it, too, since they each brought the mirror closer to their faces.

"Did you see that?" she asked. Ron and Hermione both nodded. "What do you think it was?"

"Maybe some sort of glitch?" Ron questioned. Hermione nodded.

"We  _have_  been using the mirrors an awful lot, and they  _are_ very old. Maybe you should have your father look at them once you get home."

Harriet nodded, a small smile lighting up her face. She loved it when Ron or Hermione talked about her going home as if it were a definitive statement. It went unspoken, but the truth was, if the Ministry ruled against them, Harriet might never see her parents again. It wasn't very likely, but Harriet still felt a small knot of worry in her gut every time she thought about it.

"What are you doin' up in your room anyways, Harri?" Ron broke the silence. "Its a beautiful day...at least, over here at the Burrow."

Harriet snorted. "I just finished the gardening, Ron. You try spending three hours in that heat without a break. You'd want to spend your free time indoors, too."

"Blimey, Harriet," Ron winced. "They really work you over there, don't they?"

"Yeah," Harriet acknowledged, "but keep it to yourselves? The last thing we need is to go causing more trouble! If we keep a low profile, I might be back home in time before the summer is out!"

Hermione snorted. "Harriet, I love you, really I do, but let's be honest. You couldn't keep a low profile if you tried!"

"Can, too!" Harriet said petulantly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. Ron stopped her before she could say anything else.

"Guess what?" he bombarded. Harriet blinked at his eager tone. "What?"

"Your family is coming over to the Burrow for dinner tonight. I reckon you could use the mirror and talk to them for a bit, yeah?"

Harriet beamed. "That'd be brilliant!"

Her communication with her parents and two uncles had been limited to only a few letters. She missed them all dearly and couldn't wait for the day that she was finally back home. A voice from downstairs caught her attention and, in the mirror, both Ron and Hermione made faces.

"Duty calls?" Hermione inquired.

"Yea," Harriet stuck out her tongue. Bidding both her friends goodbye, she packed away her magical possessions and made her way downstairs. Sure enough, her aunt was waiting (im)patiently for her, spatula in hand. Harriet took a deep breath, washed her hands thoroughly, and got to work.

Harriet had never been more grateful for the sound of a doorbell. Her aunt, wearing a truly horrid salmon colored cocktail dress, shooed her out of the kitchen, handing her a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese as dinner.

She took the stairs two at a time to get to her room, shutting the door gently behind her. Pulling out her mirror, she gratefully sunk into the bed and began to nibble on her food, waiting patiently for her parents to show up. She rolled her eyes as she heard Dudley's simpering voice ask the Masons for their coats.

"Harriet," came a soft voice. Harriet almost cried when she saw the faces of both her mother and father staring at her from the mirror.

"Hello!" she said softly, taking another bite of bread. Her father frowned.

"Enjoying dinner?"

Harriet shook her head. "Just a snack," she lied, smoothly.

Her father visibly relaxed. "Well, then, what have you been doing? Keeping yourself busy?"

Harriet nodded eagerly. "I've been spending a lot of time outside."

Not a total lie.

The fact that she was outside gardening and mowing the lawn was irrelevant.

Completely.

"Thats good," Sirius chimed from somewhere behind her parents. Harriet giggled. He was now jumping up and down excitedly, waving his hands madly and trying to get into the shot. Harriet's mum chided him.

Harriet couldn't stop the loud guffaw that tore out of her. She could hear Dudley complimenting Mr. Mason by telling him all about a school report he had written. Seeing her parents's looks of confusion, Harriet hastened to explain the situation.

"Blimey," her father laughed. "I feel sorry for the Masons!"

"For once, I'm glad I'm up here," she admitted truthfully. "You should have seen the bow-tie Dudley had to wear."

"I'm glad I didn't," commented her mother drily, "since keeping a straight face has never really been my forte."

Harriet bit her lip to keep from laughing too hard. "I miss you," she said after a moment. Her mother's smile softened.

"We miss you, too, love," she said simply. "Don't worry, though, soon-"

Harriet's mum was cut off by a loud pop in Harriet's bedroom. Harriet's jaw dropped. "Merlin's beard."

"Harriet?" her father asked, suddenly concerned, "is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," she said, her eyes not moving. "I've got to go, though. There's a house elf in my bedroom."

"Wait, what?" Cried her parents as Harriet muttered a quick "Love you," before disconnecting the mirror and placing it on the bed. The house-elf watched her quietly from its position near the door, its wide eyes fearful and awed. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly at his dirty pillow case, ruffling her pure, white feathers, warning the elf not to get her dirty.

"Hello," Harriet said, after some slight hesitation. The elf's bat-like ears flapped excitedly and he jumped up and down eagerly.

"Harriet Potter! Such an honor it is, little madam! Truly, an honor!"

"Thats quite a compliment," she said in response, "especially considering the fact that I've never met you. Whats your name, sir?"

"'Sir?'" The unnamed elf questioned. " _Sir?_  Oh, Dobby has heard of your greatness, Harriet Potter, but never of your kindness!"

"Your name is Dobby, then?" Harriet clarified.

"Yes, miss," the little creature said, nodding so hard that Harriet was strongly reminded of one of those little bobble-heads that her Uncle Vernon used to keep in the car.

"Pleasure to meet you," Harriet offered. "Listen, though, now really isn't the greatest time to have a house-elf in my bedroom, so if you wouldn't mind coming back some other time, like, tomorrow, maybe. If its no trouble!" Harriet hastened as the elf lowered his head.

"Dobby offers his apologies to Miss Potter, but his errand his urgent, and he worries that he will not have another chance to warn her!"

"Warn me?" Harriet asked, now confused. "About what?"

"There is danger," he whispered, eyes wide, grabbing his ears in terror. "A great danger has come to Hogwarts!"

"Right," Harriet sighed. This might take awhile. "Well, why don't you sit down and tell me a bit more?"

"Sit down!" Dobby wailed. Harriet's eyes widened. She could hear her uncle clamoring up the stairs and hastened to both apologize, shush, and shove Dobby in a closet all at the same time. She just managed to get the door closed when her Uncle barged in.

"What the devil are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," Harriet said quickly. She nudged the closet door closed with her foot when Dobby tried to open it. Vernon scowled at her.

"Really? Then whats that, then?" Harriet looked to where he was pointing. She winced. In her haste, she had forgotten to replace the floorboard and hide her mirror.

"Ah," was all she managed to say.

"I'll deal with you later," he hissed venomously, walking past her and grabbing both her mirror and the items stored in the small cubby. "Just keep quiet!"

He closed the door firmly behind him and Harriet let out a sigh. She opened the closet door and pulled Dobby out.

"Are you mental?" she snapped angrily. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Never!" Dobby assured her. "Dobby only meant to warn Harriet Potter!"

"Thats the second time you've said that," Harriet resigned herself to the fact that she was going to spend a good majority of her night talking to a house-elf.

Alright then.

"What exactly is it that you mean? Warn me about what? Whats happening at Hogwarts?"

"Bad things, Miss Potter," Dobby rasped. Harriet frowned.

"Could you be more specific?"

"No!" Dobby denied. Harriet made a shushing motion with her hands and calmed him down. When he spoke again, he spoke much more quietly. "Dobby's masters have forbidden him from speaking of it. Dobby will have to punish himself most gravely for coming to warn you."

"Right," Harriet said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. House-elves really were treated unfairly. "Well, we can't have that, can we? What  _can_  you tell me?"

Dobby said nothing.

"What if I guess? Would that work?" Dobby nodded vigorously. Harriet set her jaw in concentration. "Does it have anything to do with Voldemort?"

Dobby squeaked and Harriet apologized. "No," Dobby said, looking a bit pale. "It does not have to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Dobby's eyes were wide though. He seemed to be trying to give her a hint.

"Does he have a brother?" Dobby shook his head.

"Look," she said, finally, unable to think of anything else, "even if You-Know-Who  _was_ up to something, Hogwarts is still the safest place in all of Europe. Dumbledore is there...you have heard of Dumbledore, right?"

Dobby nodded. "Dumbledore is a great wizard, but there are things that even he does not understand. That no good wizard must know."

He said nothing else, so Harriet grumbled, annoyed. "Your masters really put you in a pickle, didn't they, Dobby?" Harriet's eyes brightened. "Can you tell me who they are? Maybe-"

But Dobby was already shaking his head. Harriet huffed. "They have something to do with this, though, right?"

Dobby nodded.

"Are you  _sure_  you can't say anything else?"

"Dobby is sorry, but he must obey his masters. He will say, however, that Harriet Potter must not return to Hogwarts this year. It is not safe."

Harriet shook her head. "No, Dobby. I  _have_ to go back. I need to get away from here. You've seen my Uncle! Whatever is waiting at Hogwarts can't be worse than  _him!"_

"Oh, but it is," Dobby whispered darkly, pupils dilated. "So, Harriet Potter must promise Dobby that she will not return to Hogwarts!"

Harriet shook her head. "I can't do that, Dobby!"

"Then Dobby has no choice." Dobby popped out of her room and Harriet was left alone. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she pondered Dobby's words.  _What did that mean?_ She got her answer when she heard a light pop from downstairs, coming from what seemed to be the kitchen. Cursing her luck, Harriet crept downstairs as quietly as she could. She paused on the landing, crouched down to avoid being seen.

"Dobby?" she called out, hoping against hope that he would answer. He didn't, so she scowled and walked further into the house. She managed to sneak by the living room where her family was entertaining (well, not exactly) the poor Masons.

Sure enough, her instincts had been right. She found Dobby in the kitchen. He was levitating the cake that Aunt Petunia had so painstakingly prepared.

"Dobby," she demanded. He paused in his work to look at her. "As much as I would love to ruin Aunt Petunia's cake,- blimey, that thing is ugly- you can't! They'll be furious!"

"Harriet Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" He intoned, levitating the cake into the living room.

"But how is this going to help?" she demanded. Dobby just shook his head. Harriet, thinking quickly, darted into the living room, somehow ending up directly behind the Masons. Her uncle looked as though her were about to yell at her, but then he noticed the flying cake. His eyes widened and he seemed to choke on his words.

"Is everything alright?" came Mr. Mason's voice as Harriet's hands reached out, about to grab the cake.

"Dudley," gasped Aunt Petunia, frozen to the spot, "Isn't there something you wanted to tell the Masons?"

"Pudding," was all Dudley managed to squeak out. Harriet lunged for the cake, but it was no use: she was too late. The cake fell onto Mrs. Mason, and she screamed. Uncle Vernon tried desperately to calm them down, but apparently Mrs. Mason's suit had been one of a kind and handmade.

Mr. Mason's last words to Vernon were, "Just wait and see if my firm  _ever_  comes to your company for drills!"

Harriet winced as the door slammed shut. She caught Dobby's eye and he nodded firmly before disappearing. As she mindlessly tuned out her Uncle's angry rant, she couldn't help but worry for Dobby's mental health.  _How in the world was_ ** _that_** _going to keep me from going back to Hogwarts?_

That was the moment that a small, brown owl chose to fly into the house through the chimney. That was also the moment that Harriet found herself recalling a conversation during which her parents had explained the concept of underage magic and the Trace.

And, as her uncle read out the letter informing her of her current suspension from Hogwarts and yet  _another_ impending hearing at the Ministry, that was when Harriet finally realized what Dobby's plan was all along.

_Blimey, thats a smart elf._

* * *

**Lily and the Marauders, Potter Manor- June 30, 1992**

"Thats not possible," Lily repeated, sinking down on the couch and massaging her temples, frustrated. The Ministry official looked highly exasperated.

"Magic was used in that household," he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child (it made James want to punch him). "The only witch currently residing at that address is your daughter. A letter has been sent to her informing her of her current suspension from Hogwarts. She will attend another Ministry hearing in a few days to decide both her status as a student and your custody of her. What part of that was unclear?"

"The her using magic bit," Remus muttered. "She knows better."

The official shrugged, obviously at a loss. "I can't help you with that. Do you have any other questions?"

"Yes," Sirius acknowledged. "How will she be arriving at the Ministry?"

"A Ministry worker will be sent to pick her up. Now, I apologize, but I really must be going." Ignoring their protests, the workers departed from the house and left with a POP. Lily shook her head.

"Harriet wouldn't have used magic outside of Hogwarts. I am sure there is a perfectly logical explanation for this."

"What was it she said earlier? That there was a house-elf in her bedroom?" Remus questioned. Sirius frowned.

"Yes," he said, before adding drily, "and thats  _perfectly_ logical."

"Well," Lily sighed, "at least we'll never be bored, James."

Her husband snorted and said, jokingly, "You were the one who wanted kids. I still say we should have gotten the dog."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey- June 31, 1992**

Harriet glared at her Aunt through the cat-flap when she shoved food inside. Grumbling to herself, she took the offered soup (Or what was supposed to be soup. Harriet doubted it, considering her Aunt's cooking.).

Eyeing the lumps of meat warily, she brought the bowl to her lips and took a sip. Convinced that it wasn't going to kill her immediately, Harriet finished gulping down the rest of the broth. She then took the remaining meat chunks and tipped them into Hedwig's cage.

"Enjoy," she told her owl. "Its all we'll be getting for a while."

Within hours of the Masons having left, the her Uncle had called a company to install bars on her windows and a cat-flap on her door. They had taken the rest of her magical items and thrown them back under the stairs. This time she hadn't been able to salvage anything, either.

Harriet flopped down onto the bed and sighed. Out of sheer boredom, she began to look at the stains patterns on the ceiling. She had just come to the conclusion that one of them looked suspiciously like a baby duck when her bedroom door open.

Harriet jerked up, hair sticking out in every direction. Her Uncle stood at the doorway. He was adjusting a rather ugly tie and looking very smug. "We are going out."

"We are?" Harriet asked, skeptical. It would seem that her Uncle had gotten much more lenient in his punishments since she had left. Her Uncle laughed at he. Loudly.

"Not you, girl," he snapped. "Petunia, Dudley, and I. We've won the first place prize in the England's Best Lawn Competition."

"And you aren't bringing me with you?" Harriet scoffed. "That seems a bit unfair considering I'm the one who did all the work on the lawn."

Her Uncle fixed her with an annoyed glare. The vein in his head was throbbing and his face was so red that it looked as though his head was about to explode. "Listen, girl, you'll be staying here. We're locking you in. Understand?"

"Its not any different from what you were doing before," Harriet pointed out, "so of course I understand. Unlike your son, I actually have a-"

Her uncle slammed the door shut on her.

"-brain," she finished with another sigh. She looked at Hedwig and made a face. "I must be ridiculously lonely if I'm talking to Uncle Vernon."

Hedwig hooted in reply.

"Fair enough," Harriet sighed, "but at least you're smart enough to understand me," Harriet noted. Hedwig puffed herself up in pride and Harriet giggled. She opened her mouth to chide Hedwig for being so proud, but a crash in the kitchen stopped her. She frowned.

"Didn't the Dursleys already leave?"

Hedwig cocked her head. "Thats what I thought. Then who's down there?"

Hedwig hid her head in her wing and Harriet stuck her tongue out at her. "Some help you are!"

More noises on the stairs alerted Harriet that somebody was coming closer to her room. Lacking her wand, Harriet grabbed the first thing she thought of: the lamp from the small desk in the room. She lifted it up above her head and waited with baited breath as somebody opened the door.

Harriet had expected somebody rather devious and sinister looking. Instead, she got a slightly overweight, middle-aged man whose red hair was beginning to thin out-

_Wait. Red hair..._

"Mr. Weasley?" Harriet asked cautiously. Not every red head in the universe was a Weasley, of course, but this man had the  _perfect_ shade of Weasley Red and Harriet recognized Ron's nose in his sea of features.

"Yes," the man said excitedly, holding out his hand for her. Harriet placed the lamp back down on the desk and reached out to take it. "Arthur Weasley, Ron's father. You must be Harriet! Its a pleasure to meet you!"

"Its good to meet you, too, sir," Harriet said, politely. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here? I don't mean to sound ungrateful to see you, or anything, but this is the second time tonight I've had somebody unexpectedly pop into my bedroom."

"If  _you_  don't mind, I think I'd like to hear a bit more about that," he told her, brows furrowed in a way that reminded Harriet of Percy's "serious face."

"However, to answer your first question, I am here to escort you to my home for the night, where you will remain under my supervision until your Ministry hearing tomorrow." He said this all in dry tone, informing her that this was simply the official wording.

"Your home, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, Miss Potter," he responded, teasing her for her formality. "The Ministry believes that due to your exhibition of underage magic earlier-"

"That wasn't me!" Harriet denied.

"No?" Mr. Weasley frowned. "Then I guess you really  _must_ tell me that story-sooner, rather than later, if you don't mind. But, no matter. The Ministry still feels that you must be placed under some sort of magical supervision. They chose me."

"But Ron said that you worked for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department? What does that have to do with me?" Harriet was very confused. Mr. Weasley beamed at her, obviously very excited about his work.

"I pulled a few strings. Talked to the right people. Thought it might ease your parents' minds." Harriet nodded, things making more sense. "Although, I was also hoping that I might have a chance to question you on some of the more  _obscure_  muggle objects that I've come into contact with. Maybe clear up any confusion-"

"Absolutely," Harriet said quickly.  _Anything_ to get out of the Dursley's house. "I would be happy to."

"Brilliant!" He told her. "We'll just need to get your things, then."

"They're downstairs, in the cupboard underneath the stairs."

"Everything?" questioned Mr. Weasley in a rather dubious tone. Harriet answered, "Yes, sir. Everything but Hedwig."

She picked up the cage which held the owl in question. Mr. Weasley's eyes narrowed as he took in the padlocked cage and Hedwig's agitated expression. His eyes flicked around the room, taking notice of the threadbare mattress, bars on the window, the food tray, and the cat-flap. His lips tightened, but, thankfully, he didn't say a word. Instead, he just ushered her quickly out the door.

It was with a grateful sigh that Harriet took her wand from him when he unlocked the door that lead to Harriet's things. He began to shrink down her drunk and various other items. Harriet decided to try and make conversation. It was Ron's dad, after all.

"Its lucky you got here when you did," she offered. "The Dursleys just left. Something about winning an award."

"Oh that wasn't luck," Mr. Weasley denied. "I fabricated that little story. Needed something to get them out of the house."

Harriet laughed. "Oh! I'd love to see their faces when the realize that the prize doesn't exist!"

Mr. Weasley smiled with her. "We're all set then. I just need to leave them a note. Something to tell you that you've gone-"

"They'll be thrilled."

"-that you're perfectly safe-

"That will just depress them."

"-and that if they wish to see you, all the need to do is ask."

"I really doubt they'll take you up on that."

"From what I've heard," Mr. Weasley admitted, "so do I. But its a formality." Harriet sighed in concession and managed to dig up a notepad and a pen. Mr. Weasley had the time of his life clicking the little ball-point pen on and off, apparently having only used quills, and, once he was done, Harriet just couldn't find the heart to take it from him, so she let him keep it.

The Dursleys wouldn't miss it, she decided. Then, taking in Mr. Weasley's thrilled expression,  _And they can go splinch themselves if they do._

"Are we going to apparate to your house?" Harriet was a bit hesitant. Apparation wasn't her favorite mode of transportation. Mr. Weasley nodded apologetically. Obviously he agreed with Harriet that it wasn't the greatest way to travel.

"Mind you," he told her as they walked outside, "Muggles have some very interesting ways of getting around. Very ingenious."

"What?" Harriet asked. "Like cars?"

Mr. Weasley nodded. "Exactly!" Harriet hadn't thought of it that way before. "If only the Ministry wasn't so anti-Muggle. So many improvements could be made using their ideas! You should see some of the things I've done so far-"

"But I thought modifying Muggle stuff was illegal?"

"I think you'll find," he told her, nervously tugging at his collar, "that there is a loophole in the bill. Making modifications are perfectly legal, as long as you aren't intending to  _use_  the object in question."

"Percy mentioned once that you were the one who drafted the bill," Harriet began cautiously. In the moonlight, she saw Mr. Weasley turn as red as his hair. She grinned. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"We really need to be going," Mr. Weasley said loudly as he changed the subject. That gave Harriet all the answer she needed. It also gave her all the trust she needed to take his offered arm and go off with him to the Burrow.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, The Burrow- June 31, 1992**

The Burrow, Harriet decided, was quite possibly Harriet's favorite place in the world-save her own home and, of course, Hogwarts. The house itself was large, but not in width. It was actually rather narrow, with multiple rooms stacked on top of each other. It looked as though it were about to fall over, reminding Harriet of a magical version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The interior was just as wacky as the outside. The furniture was eclectic and old, much of it worn down and faded. The rooms were filled with magical knick-knacks that Harriet had never seen before. Overall, the Burrow had a homey feel to it that fit well with Ron's descriptions of his family.

Ron's family.

If there was anything that Harriet liked more than the house itself it was the people in the house. The Weasleys had to be some of the nicest people she had ever met. Mr. Weasley had kept his word. The moment they arrived home, he had been off again, this time flooing to her house to inform her parents of her safe arrival.

Mrs. Weasley was just as she had remembered: red-haired and motherly. She had offered Harriet food right away and, Harriet almost felt ashamed to admit it, it was just as good (if not better) than her own mother's cooking.

Percy had been formal and respectful to her, but oddly cold. That was just his way, she supposed.

The twins were the exact opposite, welcoming her with open arms and making her instantly feel like one of the family. They treated pranks as though they were important as breathing. She couldn't go five minutes in their presence without laughing hysterically.

Ron's little sister Ginny, with whom she was sharing a room,  _seemed_ sweet, although it was difficult to tell since she would blush and run away whenever Harriet entered the room. It was flattering, but a tad disconcerting.

Not nearly as disconcerting, of course, as the  _other_ Ministry hearing hanging over her head. Mr. Weasley, having heard her tale about Dobby, had assured Harriet that everything would work out fine.

Considering how well her last Ministry hearing had gone, Harriet was a little bit less optimistic.

To cheer her up, Fred and George threw a small show using their left-over Fillibuster Fireworks. Harriet loved it, but, sadly, Mrs. Weasley wasn't as grateful. She chased them both around the house with her wooden spoon before ordering them to go de-gnome the garden. Harriet had felt bad, but the winks they both sent her behind their mother's back made her feel a bit better.

Harriet couldn't help but turn to Ron, incredulous. He laughed at her expression. "Yeah," he assure her, "its always like this. Well, except for Ginny. Normally, she can't shut up. Its a bit weird."

Harriet blushed and mumbled something, incoherent. Mrs. Weasley took this moment to enter the living room.

"Its late," she tutted. "Harriet, you have a long day ahead of you, my dear. Its time you headed up to bed."

Harriet gave Ron a quiet goodnight and headed up to Ginny's bedroom. Ginny was already there, but Harriet didn't bother trying to strike up conversation with her. Instead, she changed inter her jim-jams, got under the covers, and turned off the light, and went to sleep hoping that the next day brought better things.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Courtroom 10, Ministry of Magic-July 1, 1992**

"It wasn't me," Harriet said the moment she was on the stand. Fudge raised a dubious eyebrow and scoffed.

"Then who was it?"

"The house-elf," Harriet said matter-of-factly. Fudge decided to humor her.

"I see." He nodded sagely. "What exactly was this house-elf's name?"

"I..don't remember," Harriet muttered, thinking of Dobby's fear filled gazed and secretive nature.

"And what did he, or she, want, exactly?"

"I don't really know. I think he was trying to warn me."

"From what?"

Harriet shrugged and Fudge snorted again. Madam Bones looked highly put out at having her proceedings having been taken from her, but there was little she could do against the Minister at this point.

"I see," he sighed, giving her parents disappointed looks, as if he thought that they should be ashamed of their child's blatant lying. "Well, Miss. Potter, unless you can give us a  _plausible_ explanation-"

"Minister Fudge," interrupted Madam Bones, "Miss Potter may not be being  _entirely_ truthful with us, she is not lying about not being the one to cast a levitation charm."

Fudge gaped at her, so she continued. "A quick check of the last spell used on Miss Potter's wand has confirmed that she was not the one to cast a levitation charm."

"That- That can't-"

"Furthermore," Madam Bones continued, "an investigation has confirmed that Mr. and Mrs. Potter are perfectly suitable parents, so there is no need for Miss Potter to return to the Dursleys."

"She can't-" Fudge wailed. Madam Bones fixed him with an annoyed look.

"Minister Fudge, unless you have something useful to say, than I suggest you hush down. This hearing is now over."

Harriet was over to her parents in a flash. This hearing had gone much better (and much  _faster_ ) than the last hearing she had attended. Her father picked her up, spinning her around rapidly and planting kisses in her hair. She was then passed over to her mother, who just held her tight. Sirius and Remus each gave her welcoming hugs as well.

Harriet was eventually set down. "Hello," she said, not really sure what else to say.

"Hello, Prongslette," Sirius retorted, ruffling her hair. She half-heartedly scowled at him.

"Can we leave?" she asked hopefully.

"Just need to fill out some paperwork, love," her mother admitted. Harriet couldn't help but make a face. "But why doesn't your father go ahead and show you where he and the other aurors work while we wait?"

Her father looked at her eagerly and she couldn't say no. They began to walk together down the corridor and towards the lift. Neither of them said anything and that was what allowed them to hear the hushed whispers coming from down the hall.

Harriet and her father exchanged glances.

"Fudge?" he mouthed. Harriet nodded and identified the second voice.

"Malfoy?" she mouthed back. He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to act natural. Straightening, they walked in the direction of the voices.

"I simply worry, Fudge," came Malfoy Sr.'s silky drawl, "about the safety of the students. Of my son."

"Of course," Fudge stammered. They came into view and Harriet watched as Malfoy pressed something-money-into Fudge's hands.

"Hello," her father said, casually. "Are we interrupting something."

Fudge paled, but Malfoy looked unconcerned. "Of course not, Mr. Potter. Fudge was just sharing with me the  _wonderful_ news about your daughter. I am glad to hear that your family is back together. I'm sure my cousin is pleased."

"Cousin-in-law," her father corrected idly. "And yes. He is. We all are. We appreciate your congratulations."

"You best be careful, though," he warned. "From what I hear, your daughter seems to be keen to keep up your tradition of making trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, cooly. Malfoy smirked and inclined his head, walking away. Fudge looked at the Potters nervously, then teetered after Malfoy.

Both Harriet and her father stood there for a minute, each trying to figure out what had just happened. Finally her father sighed and gave her a rueful smile.

"Listen, Harriet, about what we just did? Sneaking up on Malfoy and Fudge?" Harriet nodded. "Don't tell your mother."


	16. That's One Way To Make An Entrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies (none of which I own, unfortunately).

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**~Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, King's Cross Station- August 5, 1992**

The rest of the summer flew by. Harriet's parents threw her a small birthday party. Ron and Hermione came over and the three spent the day outside, enjoying the sunshine. They ate cake and laughed and just enjoyed each other's company. It was nice, Harriet decided.

She spent the weeks approaching school working with Snape, brewing potions. The lab was just as dank and musty as she remembered, but that didn't detract from the enjoyment she got from brewing with him.

Harriet also practiced plenty of Quidditch with her father and Sirius. She might have been born with a natural talent for flying, but both of her father and Sirius had years of experience on her, meaning that they were able to teach her a lot.

Harriet grinned as she took breath. The day was bright and sunny, the breeze soft. It was the perfect day to go shopping in Diagon Alley. Harriet beamed at her parents. When Harriet had mentioned that Ron and Hermione were also doing their shopping today, they had been more than happy to take her. Sirius and Remus had come with them as well, but Remus had left to do his own shopping. Sirius was simply basking in the warm air and pleasant company.

"Where are we meeting them?" Harriet asked her mum. Her mother frowned for a minute, trying to recall.

"At Flourish and Blotts. Do you have your book list?"

Harriet pulled it out of her pocket and unfolded it, working out some of the creases. She handed it to her father,

_SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:_

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk_

_Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart_

"Are you sensing a theme in this year's list?" Sirius asked drily. Harriet and her mother laughed. Then Lily looked thoughtful.

"Lockhart," she repeated, looking a bit curious. "Wasn't he that Ravenclaw a few years above us?"

Harriet's dad snapped his fingers in realization. "That's right! I remember him! Smarmy, little, git, too. Couldn't shut up about himself."

Harriet looked down at the list. "Do you think the new Defense professor is a fan?"

Her father shrugged. "Maybe. Now hurry up! We're going to be late!"

It wasn't too long after that that they arrived at Flourish and Blotts. At least, they tried to. For some reason that Harriet couldn't understand, it seemed as though every shopper and store-owner in Diagon Alley was attempting to cram themselves into the tiny bookstore. As Harriet and her parents moved along with the queue, Harriet noticed a large banner stretched across one of the windows in the store:

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

MAGICAL ME

today 12:30P. 4:30P.M.

Harriet gulped audibly and tugged on her father's sleeve in an attempt to bring him closer to her, so that he could hear her. "He seems popular."

Her father nodded and looked around at the crowd. "Well, hopefully he's gotten better since I knew him."

Harriet frowned. "Better at what?"

"Everything!" Her father quipped. Harriet giggled, but her mother looked stern.

"That wasn't very nice, James," she admonished. Her father shrugged, not apologetic in the least. Harriet peered closer at the books displayed on the window. They featured a rather good-looking, blonde wizard, whose toothy grin sparkled unnaturally and who wore his hat at an odd angle. Harriet supposed this was meant to make him look jaunty, but, to Harriet, it just looked as though it was about to fall off his head.

As her family entered the store, Harriet noticed that, just a bit ahead of them in the line, Ron's and Hermione's families were already inside. Mrs. Weasley waved them over and the three sneakily moved ahead in the line, ignoring the grumbling of some of the wizards and witches. As the adults all greeted each other, Harriet caught up with her friends.

Hermione was a bit too excited.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

Ron rolled his eyes and turned to Harriet. "Hermione's a big fan of him-not that I understand how. She's never read any of his books." Hermione thumped him on the arm. Rubbing the sore spot, Ron continued. "Mum's the opposite. She's read everything he's ever written. I don't even think she likes his writing. She just fancies him."

"That isn't true!" chided Mrs. Weasley, blushing. Harriet's father's lips twitched a bit, but, otherwise, he didn't say anything.

Harriet didn't think it was a big deal if Mrs. Weasley fancied Lockhart a bit. Most of the crowd, after all, consisted of middle-aged witches...and a few wizards. Including one particularly tetchy looking wizard trying to edge his way through the crowd. He seemed to be trying to keep the peace.

As he tried to maneuver himself through the store, he tried to get people to move away for him. "Calmly please, ladies. "You-no! There is no need to shove-!" He was cut off as several eager women pushed him to the floor in their stampede.

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione all winced sympathetically and the line moved forward. They rounded a corner and Harriet got her first glimpse of Gilderoy Lockhart. He looked, Harriet noticed, amazingly like his photograph, only his robes now were a bright shade of blue.

"There he is!" Hermione and Mrs. Weasley squealed in tandem. Harriet wondered whether or not they had rehearsed that.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snapped at Hermione, trying to get a better shot. Hermione gasped a bit and rubbed her foot where the photographer had stepped on it. Ron shot the man a bitter look.

"Big deal," he muttered, angry that the wizard had hurt his friend.

Unfortunately for Harriet, Lockhart heard him. He shot an annoyed look at Ron, but then his gaze shifted to her. His eyes locked onto her forehead and he shot up from behind the table.

"Harriet Potter?" Gilderoy gasped, sounding positively delighted. Harriet didn't even have a chance to respond to him. The crowd parted, whispering excitedly, and he grabbed Harriet's sleeve, yanking her towards him. She struggled to be released, but either he didn't notice or didn't care. Her parents tried to get to her, but the crowd closed themselves up again, cramming closer and eager to get a closer look.

"Smile, Harriet," Gilderoy ordered her. His arm was wrapped securely around her shoulder and he spoke through his gleaming smile. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

Harriet felt her face heat up as the crowd began to applaud. Gilderoy made a huge show of taking her hand and shaking it, almost ripping her arm from its socket. When he finally let go, Harriet tried to escape the attention, but Lockhart was not going to let that happen just yet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he announced, seizing her by the hood of her robe, pulling her back. "I never thought that I would have the honor to meet the famous Harriet Potter. Indeed, even for one as accomplished as I, her story is legend. This is, in fact, the perfect moment for me to make a little announcement."

Harriet watched nervously as Lockhart reached backwards and picked up a copy of his autobiography,  _Magical Me._ He presented it to Harriet, who took it as one might take an annoyed snake (well, as anyone save Harriet would take an annoyed snake). Lockhart turned back to the crowd.

"When Miss Potter entered Flourish in Blotts today, she only expected to receive a signed copy of my autobiography, which I will gladly present to her now-free of charge!"

Lockhart waited for the crowd to stop clapping. "She and her fellow classmates will also, much to their joy, I'm sure, receive the  _real_ magical me! That's right! This September, I will be journeying to Hogwarts to take up the post of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! I am honored to have this chance-"

Harriet tuned out his speech. Searching the crowd, she met Ron's eyes and exchanged a horrified look with him. She had a bad feeling that Lockhart was going to be an even worse professor than Quirrell. Sure, he had tried to kill her, but at least she had gotten some decent practice in. From what she could tell, she and her classmates would be lucky if Lockhart didn't spend the entire class talking about himself.

Harriet's own name brought her back to reality. She instinctively took the books Lockhart handed to her, but it took a second for it to actually register.  _Ah._ Lockhart had given her a free set of his books.

Blushing even brighter, now, she finally managed to make her way back to her parents, doing her best to ignore the greedy looks of most of the women in the crowd.

Mrs. Weasley was the first to greet her. "Oh, Harriet! You got to meet him, you lucky girl!"

Harriet didn't want to disappoint Mrs. Weasley (who was probably one of her favorite people in the world), so she just nodded.

"Yea,h" she agreed half-heartedly. She tipped the books Lockhart had given her into Ginny's cauldron. "You can have those," she offered. For a minute, she was convinced that Mrs. Weasley was going to argue, but perhaps the look on Harriet's face stopped her. Instead, she smiled.

"Thank-you, dear!"

Harriet informed her parents and Sirius that she, Ron, and Hermione were going to go and try to find the  _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_. The three were small and therefore able to move through the crowd more easily. They finally made it to the less crowded portion of the store.

"I can't believe you got to meet him, Harriet," Hermione said, echoing Mrs. Weasley's sentiments. She grabbed them each the  _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2._ They placed them in their individual cauldrons, along with the rest of their books for the year, and began to make their way back to their parents.

"I bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Harriet made a face at her friends, before turning around to face Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was one of the few people at Hogwarts that Harriet  _genuinely_ disliked. His face wore his near-always present sneer and his hair was slicked back.

Harriet hadn't always started out as Malfoy's enemy. When he had first sought her out on the train, it was with the intent to be friends.

It turned out that Malfoy wasn't very good at making friends.

He was much more suited to making enemies.

"Famous Harriet Potter," scoffed Malfoy. "Can't even go to a bookstore without making a scene."

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," defended Ron, reddening a bit. Malfoy didn't look very threatened.

"Weasley!" said Malfoy, sounding too surprised. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you could afford these books! I guess you're parents will have to go hungry for a month to pay for them, hm?"

"Ron!" Called Mr. Weasley, trying to make their way over to them, Ginny following closely behind. "Let's get out of here! You have you're books, yes?"

Ron nodded and went to follow his father, but a low, drawling voice stopped them. "Arthur. What a  _pleasant_ surprise."

Mr. Weasley straightened himself up as Lucius Malfoy placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Lucius."

"A busy time at the Ministry, isn't it?" Lucius sneered. "That would explain why I haven't seen you in  _so_ long. I do hope they are paying you overtime."

Mr. Malfoy picked up a book from Ron's cauldron. Harriet recognized the tattered cover as a copy of their second year Potions book. It wasn't in bad condition, from what Harriet could see, but Mr. Malfoy held it as though it were something utterly fowl.

"Or not," he muttered, fingering the book. "What is the point in being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't pay you well for it?"

Harriet and Hermione both glared more strongly at Mr. Malfoy and his son. Ron's and Ginny's faces both grew red. Their father's fists tightened and he opened his mouth to speak, but a different voice answered Lucius calmly through the crowd.

"I think we have  _very_ different ideas as to what disgraces the name of wizard, Lucius." Sirius spoke crisply, hands in his pockets. He was the picture of relaxation, but Harriet could see the disdain he had for his relative written all over his face.

If Mr. Malfoy was surprised to see him, he didn't show him. Instead he just snorted. "Clearly. And here I thought you could sink no lower to the company you keep."

His eyes darted, rather obviously, first to Mr. Weasley, then the Grangers, who were watching everything nervously. He then shifted his gaze to Harriet's father. By the time he reached Harriet's mum, Sirius lost all semblance of control.

He launched himself at Mr. Malfoy sending them both careening into some book-shelves nearby.

Ron couldn't help but cheer him on, and even Harriet clapped a bit. Hermione screamed and Ginny jumped backwards, startled. At this point, the rest of their group had reached them.

"James, stop him!" Mrs. Weasley ordered. James eyed the fight warily. Sirius was clearly winning and Harriet's father really didn't seem in the mood to ruin his friend's fun.

"Do I have to?" he whined. At his wife's glare, he sighed dejectedly and moved in to haul Sirius off of Lucius. Sirius struggled for a moment but then, realizing that it was Harriet's dad who held him, he calmed.

Malfoy stood and tried to straighten his robes. It was rather difficult to look dignified with a black eye, Harriet noticed. Malfoy Sr. thrust Ron's Potions book back at him, not saying a word. He grabbed his son by the nape of the neck and, together, the two made their way out of the store.

"You should have ignored him, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley mothered as they, too, made their way of the store. She tried to wipe some of the blood off of Sirius's lip with her handkerchief. He took it from her gratefully and did it himself.

"Nah," he laughed. "I've been wanting to do that for ages. I just needed an excuse."

James laughed and Lily didn't even bother to argue. Mrs. Weasley, though, was still a bit upset. "Oh, but think of what Gilderoy Lockhart must have thought!"

"Actually, mum," Ginny chimed, "he loved it! All the publicity and stuff!"

Mrs. Weasley just looked more distraught. To give her some time to calm down, Harriet's mother sent the three kids off to get themselves some ice-cream. The three didn't argue. They made their way through the narrow, winding, street, doing their best to avoid the other wizards and witches around them.

They reached the ice-cream shop and Harriet used her money to buy three, large, peanut-butter and strawberry ice creams for them. After that, they spent their time window shopping.

Harriet and Ron couldn't help but spend an inappropriately large amount of time at the Quality Quidditch Supplies store, eyeing up all of the equipment. In particular, they were displaying several new brooms in the windows. The Nimbus 2001 was the newest in the Nimbus line (Harriet had the older model), but it was outshined by the far superior Firebolt.

"It's beautiful," Ron gasped, eyes wide. There was no price listed on the broom, but Harriet didn't have to see one to know that it was probably worth a small fortune.

"They say that they'll be using this broom in the next Quidditch World Cup," Harriet noted, remembering her Quidditch magazine.

Hermione, sick of brooms and Quaffles and Snitches, finally dragged them out and into the joke-shop, where the twins had managed to find themselves. In a small shop filled with used items, Harriet, Ron, and Hermione bumped into Percy, who was reading a book called Prefects Who Gained Power.

"Percy is very ambitious," Ron explained as the trio were chased out of the shop by Ron's annoyed brother. "He has it all planned out. He wants to be Minister of Magic one day."

Harriet raised an eyebrow. "He'll probably do a better job than Fudge is doing," she noted. Hermione shushed them, warning that it wouldn't be a good idea to appear less than fond of Fudge in public- at least not now.

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione bumped into Remus on the way back to their parents. He had several bags of items, but refused to reveal what was inside. Instead, he let the three kids explain to him what had happened between Mr. Malfoy and Sirius. Harriet had honestly expected Remus to be angry at his friend, but she received a pleasant surprise.

When Remus finally found Sirius, Remus didn't rebuke him. Instead, Remus gave him a large hug and congratulated him for a job well done.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, King's Cross Station- September 1, 1992**

By the time the school-year rolled around, Harriet had almost forgotten about Dobby's warning. Her parents, on the other hand, had not.

"Alright, Prongslette," her father told her. "We'll be right on the other side, waiting for you, alright?"

Harriet nodded and watched as her father, mother, and Sirius disappeared through the barrier. Remus hadn't been there, but her mum had explained to her that it was "work related" and that he "would be seeing her soon." Harriet had dropped it after that. Remus had lost his job when the Flamels had died (apparently their great-great-however-many-greats- grandson hadn't been as open to hiring a werewolf) and was not having trouble finding a new line of work.

Harriet still missed him, but she could understand. She and Ron were now left on the outside of the platform, alone now. His family had gone up ahead with Ginny. She turned to Ron, who looked just as antsy as she felt.

"They're taking this thing a bit too seriously," she said, referring to her parents' need to make sure that the other side was safe before she went through.

"Better safe than sorry, I guess," Ron offered, although it looked like he agreed with her. "Let's just get to the Platform before the train leaves. Or Hermione goes mental. I don't know which would be worse."

Harriet couldn't argue with that logic, so she grabbed her trolley and began to run into the wall, Ron directly behind her. Harriet could see the wall approaching her, but, unlike the first time she had tried to enter the platform. That time, she had been so worried that she was going to-

CRASH.

Harriet's trolley hit the wall first, sending her flying over it, headlong into the wall, knocking poor Hedwig over in the process. Isaura, curled on one of the bars of the trolley, hissed in disapproval, tightening herself up to prevent injury. Ron let out a gasp as he tried to stop his trolley, but he failed. He too was sent soaring over his trolley, falling on top of Harriet in a tangled heap.

For a moment, neither one of them said anything, focusing on catching their breath. People around them, though, weren't nearly so considerate. As a bunch of people stared and a small crowd started to form, a burly security guard yelled at them, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Sorry," Harriet gasped, finally sitting up. "Lost control of the, uh, trolley."

The guard looked unconvinced, but dropped the matter. Harriet righted Hedwig's cage and checked to make sure that Isaura was alright. Once that had been done, she looked over to Ron. He was paler than normal, freckles standing out against his skin, one hand pressed firmly against the barrier.

"What happened?" she hissed, ignoring the odd looks still being sent her way.

"I don't know!" Ron exclaimed. It seemed like he was on the verge of hysterics. "The barrier just...closed!"

Harriet eyed the clock on the wall with a growing sense of foreboding.

_3..._

_2_...

_1..._

"The train is gone," she whispered. "It actually left without us."

Ron's eyes widened and he looked back at the platform. "We can't get through."

"I thought we'd established that already," she snapped, annoyed. She instantly felt guilty seeing his wide-eyed gaze.

"I just meant," he muttered, "that if we can't get through, can our parents?"

Harriet instantly felt like more of an idiot. "Oh."

* * *

**Lily and James Potter, Kings Cross Station-September 1, 1992**

Lily frowned. "Its taking Harriet far too long. She should be across by now."

Sirius wasn't bothered. "Don't worry," he told Lily, striding forward, "I'll just go get- Merlin's beard!"

Sirius careened face-first into the wall. The force of it knocked him backwards. Thankfully, James was right behind him, and managed to stop him from hitting the floor. Sirius looked back and forth between his friends and the wall. "What was that?"

Lily placed her hand on the wall. "That barrier has closed."

James shook his head. "That's impossible. The magic involved-"

"Well  _something_ is blocking the barrier!"

"What do we do?" Sirius demanded, banging more firmly on the barrier, as though pure strength and willpower alone would be enough to get to the other side.

"Lily! James! We can't find Ron!" Molly came running through the station, her husband in tow. Ginny and the twins and Percy had all been placed on the train. Only Ron was left. Molly was a bit hysterical.

"He's with Harriet." Lily soothed.

"Where is Harriet?" Arthur asked fearfully. James looked a bit uncomfortable.

"On the other side of the barrier. Which is closed."

"Are you sure?" Molly cried. Lily wrapped her arms around the older woman's shoulders. Sirus spoke through his broken nose. "Yes, we are sure."

"The train is leaving," James pointed out, watching as the train pulled out of the station.

"We've got more important things to worry about, Prongs," Sirius snapped. Lily tutted.

"I think he meant that, at this point, the kids are probably panicking."

"Harriet has a pretty cool head," Molly soothed. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

Arthur paled. "Oh god."

"What?" James demanded.

"Ron is with her." He pointed out.

"Right," Lily agreed, looking a bit nervous. I'm sure Harriet will keep them in line, right? They won't do anything too ridiculous."

* * *

**Ron and Harriet, King's Cross Station-September 1, 1992**

They stood in silence for a moment. Harriet honestly didn't know what to say. "What do we do now? Do we wait? We could Floo, but I don't have any change."

"Neither do I, so I guess we don't do anything. What other choice do- The car!" Harriet blinked as Ron did a complete one-eighty. She goggled at him.

"What?"

"My dad's car! We took it to the station! We can drive it to Hogwarts!"

"How are we supposed to get a car to Hogwarts?" Harriet asked. Ron huffed, annoyed.

"We fly it."

"Oh," Harriet nodded, as if that made perfect sense. "Right. Why didn't I think of that."

"My dad did it," Ron explained. Harriet's eyes widened in realization. Ron continued before she could say anything else. "I know underage wizards aren't allowed to use magic, but this is an emergency, right? And Dobby threatened you, so it isn't safe for you to wait out here!"

Harriet didn't say anything for a minute. "And you know how to fly this thing, right?"

Ron nodded eagerly. "Fred and George taught me!"

Harriet didn't think that that was the most reassuring thing she could have heard, but she was too excited about the idea of a flying car to care. "Alright. Let's go! Hurry!"

* * *

 

**Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Express-September 1, 1992**

Hermione had looked inside of almost every train compartment. Nobody had seen or heard from Ron and Harriet in a while. She was worried.

 _One more compartment,_  she assured herself. She opened the door and looked inside. There was only one person inside-and he wasn't Ron or Harriet. She shot the man an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin. I'll just be on my way."

"Of course, Hermione," Remus said, his voice highly amused. Hermione closed the door to the compartment and took a few steps away. She stopped.  _Wait._ She ran to the compartment and yanked open the door. Mr. Lupin was still there, obviously expecting her.

"Hello, Hermione," he offered. "Would you like to take a seat?"

"Mr. Lupin?" she questioned. He nodded and she hesitantly took the offered seat.

"Actually, its  _Professor_ Lupin, now." He looked delighted at the fact, and even Hermione was excited for him. She beamed.

"Thats wonderful! What position are you taking?"

"History of Magic," Professor Lupin said. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"You mean Professor Binns  _finally_ quit?" Remus laughed.

"Something like that." Remus said. Hermione frowned.

"But why?" Hermione wondered. "He loved that job."

"He did," Remus revealed carefully. "He just wasn't too happy about the changes that Fudge was making to the school."

Hermione leant forward and lowered her voice to prevent anybody from overhearing. "What changes?"

"Rumor has it," Remus's voice lowered to match hers, "that Fudge is sending dementors to Hogwarts."

* * *

**Harriet and Ron, The Sky- September 1, 1992**

"There," Ron nodded. "That should do it."

After a rather bumpy start, Ron had finally managed to get the car up to a safe height. They had tracked down the Hogwarts Express and were now cruising safely above it in the clouds. Harriet leant back, making herself comfortable. Isaura once again hissed her disapproval of the idea.

Harriet ignored her and looked out the window. "Its amazing!" she laughed. "Even on a broom I've never been this high up!"

"Yup," Ron agreed, fiddling with some dials. "All we need to do is follow the train and we should be-uh oh."

Harriet looked at him, worried. "What? Whats wrong?"

"Nothing too bad," Ron assured her, smacking the dashboard with his fist. "The Invisibility-Booster is shot, though. We just have to be a bit more careful about being seen."

Harriet let out a deep sigh of relief. "Oh, alright then."

She shifted again, this time leaning against the door. A soft click alerted her to her mistake. She didn't have time to react as the door swung open, taking Harriet, who was holding on for dear life, with it. Harriet scrambled for a better grip. Isaura, wrapped around her ankle, squeezed tighter.

"Harriet!" Ron called, shuffling over to her side carefully, trying not to tip the car over. "Whatever you do, don't let go!"

"Wasn't planning on it!" Harriet yelled back. One of her hands slipped, so she let out a small cry. Ron looked down at her. He reached a hand towards her and she grabbed it. Harriet held on for dear life as he pulled her back into the car. Shutting the door behind her, he let out a sigh of relief.

"That was interesting," Ron muttered. Harriet whacked him in the arm.

* * *

**Remus and Hermione, Hogwarts Express-September 1, 1992**

_"Dementors!"_ Hermione gasped, now thoroughly horrified. "I've read about those. They guard Azkaban, don't they?"

"Yes," Remus sighed, looking more old and weathered than ever. "They do. They are terrible creatures, dementors. They feed off of human happiness, leaving them nothing but their worst memories."

"Thats awful!" Hermione protested. "Why would Fudge want them at Hogwarts?"

"He believes," Remus said carefully, "that Dementors would protect the students of Hogwarts from another situation like Quirrell's. Dumbledore was furious, of course. Wouldn't hear of it. But-"

"Harriet was still at the Durlsey's," Hermione finished, "and Dumbledore couldn't risk her being stuck there."

Remus was impressed at her deduction. "Well,well, Hermione. You really are the brightest witch your age that I've ever met." Hermione blushed. "And you're right. However, Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge to keep the dementors at the entrance, only."

"And he hired you to help keep an eye on things," Hermione pointed out. "And by things, I mean students. And by students, I mean Harriet."

Remus laughed. "Harriet does have a way of making trouble, doesn't she? Where is she, by the way?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I don't know! I haven't seen her or Ron anywhere! They aren't on the train-"

"Hermione," Remus got up and put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to try and calm the near-hysterical witch. "She might be in the prefect carriage with some friends. Or even up front, for some reason. I'll go check. I'll be back in a moment."

Even though Remus only took a few minutes, to Hermione, who was tense with worry, it seemed as though he took ages. When the compartment door finally slid open Hermione shot up from her seat.

"Well?" she demanded, wringing her hands. Professor Lupin's face was twisted into a confused frown. He shook his head.

"They aren't here. I had them check storage, too. Their luggage never made it aboard the train. I doubt they even made it off of King's Cross station."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What happened to them?"

Remus couldn't tell her. "I'm not sure. When we get to Hogwarts, I'll send a message to Lily and James. If we're lucky, Ron and Harriet will be with them."

Hermione bit her lip. "And if we're not? Lucky, I mean."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

* * *

**Lily, James, and Sirius, King's Cross Station-September 1, 1992**

"They took the flying car," James said, his voice echoing his disbelief. They stood around the empty parking space, stunned into silence. James decided that the best way to break said silence was by stating the obvious. He was proven wrong when Arthur and Molly glared at him, obviously thinking that he wasn't helping.

"That's brilliant!" Sirius cheered, very impressed with their daring. He caught Lily's raised eyebrow and added quickly, "but bad. Very bad. Not at all impressive. I'm going to go and ah, do something. Somewhere else." Sirius retreated quickly back into the Station, most likely to inform the school of the whereabouts of their students.

Lily rolled her eyes. "It won't be impressive if they get seen. I doubt the Ministry will be very happy if they break the Statute of Secrecy."

Meanwhile, Arthur was trying to console his wife. "It'll be alright, Molly."

"But it's all my fault!" She sobbed. "If I had waited for him, instead of taking Ginny to board the train-"

"James and Lily were there with him," Arthur said as he desperately tried to reason with her, "other any other circumstances, he would have been perfectly safe-"

"-and now he's god knows where in that  _dratted_ flying car of yours!" Molly wailed. Arthur realized that danger that he was now in and decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to say anything at the moment.

"We've alerted the school," Sirius told the guilty mother, walking back out of the station, looking considerably more calm than he had when he had left, "and the aurors have spotted the car in the air. They can't bring them down-"

"What?" screeched Molly.

"But the children are perfectly safe and en route to Hogwarts." Sirius finished. Lily gaped at Sirius, incredulous.

"You can't actually mean that you are going to  _let_ them fly the car to Hogwarts, are you?"

Sirius nodded. "Nothing more we can do here," he informed her cheerfully. "Might I suggest that we all return to our homes for a lovely Howler-writing session?"

"Sirius," sniffed Molly, the fire in her eyes returning already, "I think that might be the best idea you've had all day!"

"Thank-you, Molly!" Sirius told her. Then he realized how back-handed the compliment was and pouted theatrically. "Oi!"

* * *

**Harriet and Ron, The Sky-September 1, 1992**

The glamor of driving a flying car to Hogwarts had worn off a long time ago. The car had, at this point, become hot and stick. Harriet's mouth felt like cotton, but neither she nor Ron had thought to bring any water on board. Hedwig hooted dolefully, feeling just as warn out as her mistress. Isaura, fed up with the owl's complaining, hissed in annoyance.

Harriet glared at them both. Ron, in the seat next to her, took the car down for a moment. Once he was sure that they were still headed in the right direction, he brought them back up. Harriet resisted the urge to hit him.

"I'd like to go on record and say that this was all  _your_ idea."

"Okay," he huffed. "I get it. Not my best move. But at least the sun is setting, now!"

Harriet couldn't help but agree with his point. Once the sun set, the car would hopefully cool down. It also meant that they were a step closer to getting to Hogwarts-which meant food, water, and a nice, soft, bed.

"What do you think they'll say when we land?" Harriet asked idly. Ron shrugged.

"Fred 'n George will probably be jealous. Percy will be pissed. Hermione will be-well, Hermione."

"And our parents?" Harriet smirked. Ron winced. He obviously didn't want to think about that right now. Harriet didn't either. At the time of them leaving, she hadn't really thought to leave a note for them in the parking lot, but, now, looking back, it was a stupid thing to forget. She could only hope that her mother and father were smart enough to figure out what had happened on their own.

Harriet felt the guilt eat at her. They had been so worried about her safety ever since Dobby's warning. It seemed, though, that there had been something else. She had caught them whispering several times about her, but they had clammed up the moment she entered the room. As for Sirius, he had been more grim than usual. Not at all his usually cheerful self. He obviously had something on his mind, which spelled trouble for Harriet.

Harriet shook it off. She was just overreacting-obviously a side-effect of spending too much time with Hermione.

_I hope they know that I'm okay._

"Harriet, look!" Ron cried. Harriet squinted to try and see what he was pointing at. She almost sobbed with relief when she made out the silhouette of Hogwarts, standing tall and proud.

Ron cheered, "We made it!"

Harriet slapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't jinx it!" she hissed.

Ron made a face and licked her hand. She squealed (not that she would ever admit it) and yanked it off of him, wiping his spit off on her clothes.

"Don't be silly," he retorted. "I'm not going to jinx anything."

The engine of the car chose that moment to sputter violent.

Then nothing.

Harriet raised her eyebrow. "What were you saying?"

For a split second, neither of them did a thing. The reality of their situation hit them, though, and they reacted as though somebody had set their pants on fire. Ron's hands shot to the wheel, even though it would be rather futile of him to try driving if they were falling out of the sky.

"We're falling!" Harriet yelled, her hands grasping desperately at the sides of the car for some way to brace herself. "We're going to land in the lake!"

"No we aren't!" Ron said, face screwed up in determination. He yanked the wheel sharply to the left, veering away from the lake and towards and the school. Everything in the car shifted to the right, sending Isaura hissing in anger and Hedwig flapping frantically in her cage. Ron righted the wheel and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"We made it!" he informed her cheerfully. Harriet's eyes widened.

"Ron!" she warned, leaning forward to try and take the wheel. He batted her away and scowled at her.

"What?" he snapped. Harriet pointed out the window.

"Watch out for the-"

The car crashed into the Whomping Willow.

"-tree," Harriet finished lamely, as they dangled, caught in some of the branches. She and Ron exchanged very worried glances.

"The Whomping Willow," Ron began slowly, "likes to hit back, doesn't it?"

"So I've been told," Harriet gulped. She reached over her shoulder and gripped the seatbelt that she had removed earlier. She clicked it into place.

_Click._

_Bam._

Ron and Harriet screamed for all they were worth, as they were tossed around the car as though they weighed next to nothing. The branches hit the front and back of the car a few times and the car, now unbalanced, fell to the ground. That was when Harriet noticed that, over the sound of their screams, the engine had started up again.

"RON!" she screeched, "THE ENGINE! GO!"

Ron slammed his foot down hard on the gas and the car shot forward. It seemed to Harriet that the car was as desperate to get away from the Whomping Willow as they were. The car stopped once they were a safe distance away. Harriet winced as the seatbelt cut into her ribs, preventing her head from hitting the dashboard.

"Ow," she mumbled, rubbing her sides. Looking over at Ron, she noticed that he hadn't been so lucky. His forehead was bleeding slightly, but he looked otherwise unharmed.

"Okay, let's get out of-" Ron was cut off as the car doors opened. Harriet's seatbelt was undone and, the next thing she knew, she was being ejected out of the car and onto the grass in front of the Hogwarts entrance. She gasped slightly as she landed on her bruised ribs.

Harriet heard the clatter of mettle and Hedwig's indignant screeches as she, too, was launched out the car. Harriet turned over just in time to see the car shut its doors and the drunk, then drive off into the Forbidden Forest.

Isaura slithered off of her ankle and began to make her way towards Hagrid's hut. "Isaura, no!" she called. Isaura hissed, annoyed, but didn't give her mistress an answer. She was clearly (and rightfully) not too happy with Harriet at the moment.

"Not quite the entrance I imagined," Ron muttered as he carefully stood up, testing to make sure that nothing was broken. Harriet nodded at his understatement and did the same.

"Who cares," she told him. She sat Hedwig's cage up. "Let's just get to the feast, quickly. If we're lucky, we won't be caught and maybe snatch something to eat."

"Good idea," Ron said. He was almost drooling. "I'm starving. Do you think we've missed Ginny's sorting?"

Harriet shrugged. It was a bit difficult with all of the luggage she was carrying, but she managed just fine. Ron took that as a signal to pick up his own things and follow her towards the Hogwarts entrance. Harriet felt as though her heart was flying when she saw the large double doors of the school.

"We're almost there!" Harriet called over her shoulder to Ron. She saw his lips move as he called something back to her, but she couldn't hear over the screaming. Harriet blinked and shook her head, but the screaming was still there. The night, which had been warm and breezy only a few moments ago, had suddenly gone cold. The air was still. Ron pointed at something and Harriet turned to see what it was. Harriet got only a glimpse of the hooded figure coming towards her.

Then she was lost.

_Lost. So lost. She wanted to leave._

_Screaming. So much screaming. Why wasn't anybody helping?_

_The cold. So cold. It gripped her tightly and wouldn't let go._

_She couldn't see. Couldn't feel._

_Nothing but the pain._

_"Run! Take Harriet! I'll hold him off!"_

_No! Don't you'll die!_

_"Harriet!"_

"Harriet!"

_A bright light._

Nothing.


	17. The Letter, the Map, and the Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. Not mine, sadly.

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**~Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts, September 2, 1992**

When Harriet woke up, she was greeted by a bright, white, ceiling. For a moment, she felt incredibly confused and disoriented. Once she recognized where she was, though, she let out an annoyed groan, turning to bury her face back in her pillow.

Why was it that she always ended up in the hospital wing?

"Harriet?" asked a soft voice from next to the bed. "Are you awake, yet?"

Harriet decided that she must have been hearing things. There was no way that  _he_ would be at Hogwarts right now. Not right after the full moon. He would have been absolutely exhausted. Yet, when she cracked one eye blearily open, she saw Remus sitting expectantly next to the bed.

"Uncle Moony?" She croaked. Her voice came out dry and cracked, so her uncle offered her a large glass of water. She took several large gulps and, before she had had her fill, Remus was pulling the cup away from her, placing it on the beside table that sat next to them.

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry. If you drink too much, you'll get sick. You can have some more later. But for now, eat this. You'll feel better.

Remus handed her a bit of chocolate. She took it skeptically and took a small bite. Instantly she felt warmth spread to her fingers and toes. A heaviness she hadn't even noticed slowly lifted itself away. She let out a breath and took another bite and nodded. Then she asked, "What am I doing here?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I remember," Harriet paused, trying to recall what had happened. She took another bite of the chocolate. "I remember," she repeated, "Ron and I had just managed to land the car at Hogwarts-"

"By land," Remus said dryly, "I assume you mean crash."

Harriet could tell from the look in his eye that he wasn't too happy about that. She'd probably be earning some sort of lecture, later on. "Right. Well, we had our things and were making our way inside when I heard this…screaming. There was screaming, Uncle Remus! A man and a woman! They- they were dying. Are they alright? Did you find them?"

Harriet was beginning to get hysterical and was trying to sit up on the bed. Her uncle pushed her slowly back down onto the covers, hushing her gently. "Harriet, nobody was screaming."

"But I heard it!"

"I'm sure you did. But nobody was screaming."

"I don't understand."

"Harriet," Remus asked her cautiously, letting her have another sip of water. "What do you know about Dementors?"

"That they guard Azkaban," she answered promptly. Sirius hadn't told her much about his time in Azkaban, but, over time, she had managed to have him tell her bits and pieces, including the effects of the Dementors. "They make a person relive their worst memories."

Remus nodded slowly, waiting for her to catch on.

"That's the screaming that I heard," she realized. "But what are Dementors doing on Hogwarts? Dumbledore would never let them come near the school!"

"Dumbledore didn't have a choice. Fudge sent them in. He believed that after last year's events, it will be beneficial to the students of the school." Harriet had a hunch that Remus did not approve of his plan.

Harriet saw a huge loophole. "But how does putting Dementors  _outside_ the school help with threats from  _inside_ the school?"

"Fudge wanted to put some Dementors in the halls, but Dumbledore drew the line there. The dementors are to stay outside the school at all times."

Harriet nodded and looked again at her Uncle, who smiled at her from his position on the chair next to the bed. Harriet blinked. "Uncle Moony?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

Remus looked confused. "What do you mean? I was waiting for you to wake up, so I could make sure you were alright."

"No, I understand that," she denied. "But you're the only one here. Not mum or dad or Uncle Padfoot. So why just you?"

Remus smiled at her. Harriet felt as though years had just melted off of his face. He looked younger and happier than Harriet had seen him in awhile. "Dumbledore gave me a job working as the new History of Magic professor."

"That's why you wouldn't say anything about where you were working!" Harriet exclaimed cheerfully, before dissolving into a fit of coughs as she irritated her still raw throat. Remus rubbed her back softly until she calmed down.

"I wanted to surprise you," he told her.

"Consider me surprised," she wheezed. She took a deep breath. "But what about your," she stopped trying to think of the right saying, "furry little problem?"

Remus burst out laughing. Seeing Harriet's confused look, he explained. "That's what you're father and Sirius used to call it. By seventh year, half the school thought that I had some sort of rabbit problem."

Harriet giggled.

"As for your question, Professor Snape will be taking over for me once a month."

Harriet could feel all of the blood draining from her face. Remus, seeing her reaction, laughed at her. "Harriet, you've survived Professor Snape's lectures for an entire year. You'll survive once every month."

"We'll see," she muttered. She was quiet for a minute. "So you're the only one here, then?"

Remus gave her a fond smile, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Your parents were eager to come over, but I assured them that you were just fine, but that I would let them know if that changed. Rest assured, though, that they will be sending you a  _very_ strongly worded letter in the near future."

Harriet winced. "How much trouble am I in?"

Remus let out a breath. "That's up for your parents to decide. As for here at school, Dumbledore managed to get your punishment reduced to a mere detention. Although, if I remember correctly, Snape was vying for expulsion."

"What about McGonagall?"

"She was rather eager to take away points, but then decided that I should have the honor. My first punishment as a Hogwarts professor." Remus smirked and Harriet suddenly realized why he was a marauder.

"But," Harriet panicked, "when Ron and I crashed the car into the Whomping Willow, we did it before school started. You can't deduct points for something we did before the start of term, can you?"

Remus tried to look stern, but failed miserably. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Harriet squealed and launched herself at him. He received her with a warm hug. Remus always gave the best hugs. "Alright," he released her. "Madam Pomfrey informed me that you'd be free to go once you were awake. If you hurry, you might still make dessert-"

Remus had barely finished his sentence when Harriet shot out of the room.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-September 2, 1992**

Harriet's morning was already off to a rough start. She woke up late (on the first day of class, no less!) and had to rush to make it to breakfast. When she got there, she shot an annoyed look at Hermione for not waking her up. Her friend ignored her, though. Obviously she was still a bit sore about their crash with the Whomping Willow. That story had spread like wildfire through the school and, admittedly, she and Ron were getting a fair amount of attention because of it.

For Harriet, though, it was a double edged sword. In addition to the praise she got for their fantastic entrance, Harriet got quite a few stares due to her encounter with the Dementor. Her reaction to its proximity had spread as rapidly as the first story and the Slytherin's were making full use of the new material.

Harriet was about to ask why Hermione was still mad (hadn't she been punished enough, after all?), when she noticed Ron's forlorn expression.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, not very tactfully, taking a seat and pulling a plate towards her.

Ron groaned. "Everything. I woke up this morning and Scabbers was missing!"

"I'm sure he'll turn up, Ron," Hermione soothed. Ron crossed his arms.

"And my Potions book is missing. I'm going to have to ask to borrow one! Snape is going to murder me. That is, if my parents don't kill me first for asking for a replacement. They're not too happy with me."

Harriet reached into her bag and pulled her Potions book. "Borrow mine. I'll take the heat from Snape."

Ron looked at her in awe. "You'd do that for me?"

Harriet laughed and pressed the book into his hands. "What's it matter? He hates me anyways. I'll to go class early and talk to him. Maybe that'll spare me some humiliation."

"But there won't be any witnesses," Ron fretted. Harriet rolled her eyes and asked if that was all that had been bothering him. Ron gestured to small pile of ripped paper next to him. It took Harriet a moment to place the red colored parchment, but when she did, she did her best to frown sympathetically.

"You're parents sent you a howler?" Harriet was finding it very difficult to keep her giggles in. Ron shot her a look of utter betrayal, but otherwise didn't say anything.

Hermione did, though. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you, Harriet. You've got one, too."

Harriet looked and, sure enough, Hedwig was waiting patiently for her on the rafters, a red envelope in her talons. Harriet ignored Ron's snickers and held her arm out for her owl. For a moment, Harriet was worried that Hedwig was still angry at her, but thankfully it looked like her familiar had decided to forgive her. She flew down and landed on Harriet's arm, dropping the letter on the table. Hedwig worked her way up to Harriet's shoulder, gave her an affectionate nip on the ear, and then left for the Owlery.

Harriet reached tentatively for the envelope. She held it for a minute, then strengthening her resolve with the knowledge that it would only get worse the longer she waited, she slowly slipped it open.

Her father's voice echoed through the great hall:

_"HARRIET POTTER!_

_WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? TAKING A FLYING CAR TO HOGWARTS? YOUR MOTHER AND I WERE WORRIED SICK! HONESTLY! OF ALL THE HAIR-BRAINED-"_

He stopped suddenly. Harriet frowned. Was it broken? Was that even possible? She turned to Hermione to ask, but her father started talking again.

_"Oh good, your mother's left. Sorry about that, Prongslette, but she was rather upset with you. And, on one hand, I have to agree with her. I mean, honestly? A flying car? But my Marauder side wants me to tell you that-"_

_"_ **_That was the most incredible thing ever!"_ **

_"Yes, thank you, Padfoot. I was getting to that."_

**_"Well, get there faster, Prongs! It was brilliant! I mean, why didn't we ever do that?"_ **

_"Mainly because we didn't have access to a flying car."_

**_"True, true."_ **

_"Anyways, Prongslette, your godfather and I just wanted to congratulate you on keeping the Marauder name alive! And, even though I'm sure Moony-"_

**_"Its_ ** **_Professor_ ** **_Moony now, Prongs."_ **

_"Right. Even though I'm sure Professor Moony gave you a stern talking to when you arrived on Hogwarts grounds, deep down-"_

**_"_ ** **_Deep,_ ** **_deep, down."_ **

**_"_ ** _He's very proud. He just can't show it, since he's gone over to the dark side."_

**_"Minnie was probably furious, though. Oh, I would have loved to see her face!"_ **

_"You know she always hated it when you called her Minnie. And you realize that this letter will be read in the Great Hall?"_

**_"Oh. Well, Minnie always did look lovely when she was angry."_ **

_"A bit late for sucking up, Padfoot."_

**_"I gathered that."_ **

_"Well, Uncle Padfoot has to go and hide now. So we'll be off. Remember: if your mother asks, I yelled at you for several minutes."_

**_"Goodbye, Prongslette!"_ **

_"Have fun, Harriet!"_

The letter finally disintegrated. Harriet risked a glance at the staff table. Professor McGonagall looked ready to kill, but all of the other teachers (save Snape, of course), looked equal parts amused and shocked.

"Did that just happen?" Harriet asked nobody in particular. Silence coated the Great Hall, confirming her answer. As if reacting to a signal, the entire Hall burst into excited chatter. Harriet sat stock still, until a bright flash snapped her out of her thoughts.

When she had blinked away spots, Harriet found herself staring at a young, hyperactive, boy, who introduced himself as Colin Creevey.

"I'm in Gryffindor, too!" He beamed. Harriet smiled politely as she, Ron and Hermione hurried to finish their breakfast before class started

"It's nice to meet you, Colin," she said, standing up. "Sorry," she said to him, "I need to make a quick stop by the dungeons before Herbology. But I'll see you around, I'm sure!"

With that, she dashed off. In fact, Harriet was in such a hurry that she didn't even notice the calculating look being exchanged by the twins.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Dungeons-September 2, 1991**

Harriet resisted the urge to cover her ears as her Uncle Severus continued to berate her for her "ridiculous stunt." To be fair, she deserved it, and had been expecting it, but that didn't make his comments any easier to endure. Once he finally seemed to finish, he leant up against his desk, as if he no longer had the strength to stand.

Harriet twiddled her fingers, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, Uncle Sev, really. Ron and I got stuck. We just panicked."

"I know your sorry," he said after a moment. "But you'll be even sorrier after you spend the weekend helping me clean cauldrons. Without magic."

"That's not fair!" Harriet argued. "I already have detention with Remus!"

Snape looked unconcerned. "And that is exactly the reason as to why I am having you help me. Your parents already agreed. Or would you rather they wait until break for them to ground you themselves?"

"Fine," Harriet grumbled. Snape glared at her and she hastily retracted her statement. "I mean, yes, sir."

Snape nodded. "Now, what brought you to classroom so early before class?"

Harriet straightened. "I need to borrow a potions book. I...lost mine."

"Tell me the truth," Snape hissed, "and I might actually consider granting you your request."

Harriet blushed, ashamed."Ron lost his potions book, but he can't ask his parents for another one after what he did and he's too scared to ask you, so I gave him mine."

Harriet spoke in one breath and, once she was done, Snape looked at her, unblinking. "Very well," he said after a moment. "But that'll be an extra day helping me, for lying."

She nodded in acceptance and hopped out of her chair. "Where are the extra books?"

"There should be some in that cupboard," Snape jerked his head towards the cupboard in question, going back to his brewing. "They'll be texts for older students, but should have everything you need. I trust that you will stick to the second year curriculum, and not deviate in any way, shape or form."

The look Snape gave her told her exactly what would happen if she attempted to brew some of the potions not on the second year list. She nodded and went to the small cupboard, opening the door.

There was only one book inside. It was old and tattered. Harriet picked it up and flipped through it. There was plenty of writing in the margins, but it was completely legible. She flipped to the inside cover.

_Property of the Half-Blood Prince._

Harriet turned to her uncle. "Uncle Sev, who is-"

"Not now, girl," Snape snapped. "I'm busy brewing."

Deciding that the information wasn't too important, she shrugged and bid him a goodbye, taking the stairs two at a time. She needed to hurry, or else she would be late for her first class, which was, according to her schedule, double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs.

The sun was bright as she headed outside, making her way to the greenhouses. On her way, she passed the Whomping Willow. Several of its branches wore slings and its thick, trunk was heavily wrapped in bandages.

"Admiring your handiwork?" asked a voice next to her ear. She looked after her shoulder to find one of the twins (she couldn't tell which) with his face dangerously close to hers. She jumped backwards and whacked him heavily on the arm for scaring her. His brother laughed.

"Harriet, would you do us the honor-"

"-of accompanying us behind that greenhouse for just a brief moment."

"Why?" Harriet asked suspicously.

Fred (or George) smirked. "It's a surprise."

"We have some business to discuss," added George (or Fred).

Harriet bit her lip. "I'm going to be late for Herbology."

"Oh no you won't." One of the twins denied. The other nodded in agreement.

"Professor Lockhart just went inside, which means he's probably giving poor Professor Sprout an earful."

"She should be busy for the next few minutes."

"Or hours," one of them quipped.

Harriet nodded and followed the twins behind the greenhouse. The moment they rounded the corner, their smiles dropped. They were obviously angry at her.

"Now, Harriet," the one Harriet decided to designate Fred said sternly, "what do you know about the Marauders?"

"Better question," Harriet replied, shocked. "How do you know about them?"

Fred and George exchanged glances. They nodded. George pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket. Even though it was folded up, Harriet knew what it was the moment she laid eyes on the tattered piece of paper.

Fred took his wand and tapped it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"The Marauders Map!" Harriet laughed. She clapped her hands in pure glee.

"We owe them so much," Fred said seriously.

"Where'd you find it?"

"Nicked it from Filch's office, of course. First year."

"Best decision we ever made. They're the secret to our success."

"It's brilliant!" Harriet laughed. "My dad left it there hoping that another prankster would find it and use it! He'll be thrilled!"

"Your father is a Marauder, then!" George demanded.

"We figured as much, after the Howler," Fred added.

"But it was too good to be true." George finished.

"My dad is," Harriet confirmed. "And so are Sirius and Remus."

"Professor Lupin is a Marauder?" gaped George. Fred appeared to be praying to some higher deity, giving thanks for this opportunity. "All this time..."

"Right," Harriet said. "Well, I have to get to Herbology-"

"Wait a minute," Fred whined.

"You don't think we dragged you all the way out here just to question you, did you?" George posed. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, that shows what you think of us," Fred sighed.

"Hurt, we are," added George. Harriet shot another anxious glance at the classroom. She could still see Lockhart talking to Sprout, but the short witch was clearly getting agitated. It was only a matter of time before he left and class started.

"Is there a point to this?" she snapped. Fred and George exchanged glances. Neither of them was in the mood to get on Harriet's bad side.

"Yes," Fred nodded.

"Harriet Potter," George continued in his solemn tone, "As the only heir to the Marauder Legacy-"

"-and as best friend to our brother and, therefore, our adopted sister-" Fred interrupted. Despite herself, Harriet found herself touched.

"We present to you the Marauder's Map." George finished, handing her the Map. Harriet looked between them both.

"What? Seriously?"

"Yup," Fred confirmed, popping the 'p.'

"We have discussed it, and have decided that your needs are greater than ours."

"We know all of the secret passages anyways," Fred noted.

"May it serve you well," quipped George. Harriet looked down it.

"You know how to make it disappear, right?" Fred checked. Harriet beamed and took out her wand. She tapped the Map twice.

"Mischief managed."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, DADA Classroom-September 2, 1992**

Harriet finally made it to Herbology. Professor Sprout was rather irritable for the rest of the class, so Harriet kept quiet and let Hermione do all the talking. The lesson involved repotting Mandrakes and petrification and something else that Harriet couldn't remember.

No matter. She'd borrow Hermione's notes later.

Transfiguration had been a disaster and Harriet had never been more glad to go to lunch. Lunch never lasted forever, and Harriet now found herself sitting at a desk in Gilderoy Lockhart's classroom. She and Ron exchanged amused glances when they noticed Hermione's love struck expression and the way she was leaning forward eagerly.

The class quieted as they waited patiently for Lockhart to show up. When he did, he did it with flare. He flung open the door to his office and stepped out onto the small platform in front of the class.

"Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!" He cried, arms held wide. "My name is Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He seemed to think this was funny and laughed at his own joke. The rest of the class remained quiet, except for the sighs of a few swooning girls.

Lockhart, realizing that nobody else found him funny, cleared his throat. He picked up a copy of one of his books from Harriet's desk. "I see you've all bought a copy of my book. Well done, well done."

 _"_ Just because you all have my books though, doesn't mean you've all read them. So, why don't we start out with a little quiz."

A collective groan sounded around the classroom.

"Yes!" Lockhart cheered, mistaking it for excitement. "It's grand, isn't it? Contain yourselves, though. Now, pass those around."

The class began to pass the tests down. Harriet flipped her page over to read the text. She couldn't believe it. Maybe it was a misprint? She turned to look at Ron's test, but it hat the same text and his face worse the same expression as hers.

"1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?" She muttered.

"2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?" Ron read aloud.

"3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?" Harriet exclaimed. "What is this rubbish?"

"No talking!" demanded Lockhart. Harriet made a face at Ron once Lockhart had turned away. Then she got back to the test. It was several pages long, so Harriet got started.

Harriet did her best to answer the questions as best she could, although she could tell she failed miserably. When finally got to the last question, Harriet just lost it.

54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

_Lockhart's birthday is the day he was born. I don't know what his ideal gift would be, but I would give him a good, hard, slap to the back of the head in hopes that it would knock some sense into him._

Ron, who happened to glance over at her test at that moment, snickered. Lockhart shot him an annoyed look, so Ron quickly quieted and went back to his own exam. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief when Lockhart collected the exams a few moments later.

He rifled through them in front of the students, pacing as he did so. With every piece of paper, his frowned deepened.

"How very disappointing! None of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac or that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky!"

Ron looked as though he was going to be sick.

"Nevertheless, we have time to learn all that." He threw the papers down on the desk, then he turned around to face them, an intense look on his face. "Now, I must warn you. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room."

He paused in his speech to lift up a cloth covered cage from behind the desk.

"Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Harriet couldn't help herself, her curiosity getting the better of her. She brought her feet underneath her and placed her hands on the desk to brace herself. She knelt on the chair and leaned forward, which allowed her a better view of the cage. Next to her, both Ron and Hermione bit back eager smiles.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart as he placed his hand on the sheet covering the cage. "It might provoke them."

Seamus Finnigan laughed out loud.

"Cornish Pixies?" He howled.

"Yes," he said somberly. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

The rest of the glass began to giggle and laugh as well. Lockhart looked very put out. He scowled.

"Laugh if you will, but they can be devilish little blighters!"

When it become clear that nobody was going to stop laughing anytime soon,

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not — they're not very —dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

Harriet didn't doubt it, although she still didn't find the small, electric blue creatures intimidating. Their faces were sharp and their voices were sharper. Harriet resisted the urge to cover her ears against the onslaught of noise. They squealed loudly and rattled against the bars of the cage, desperate to get out.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage. The pixies didn't waste a moment. They shot out of the cage and scattered all over. A few of them crashed through the window. The students screamed as glass fell everywhere. This only seemed to encourage the pixies, though. They began to tug at student's hair and rip apart their books. The thestral skeleton that hung from the ceiling gave way and fell to the ground with a loud  _crash._ A group of pixies picked Neville up by the ears and hung him by his cloak on the chandelier.

"Everybody calm down," Gilderoy called from his position under his desk. He stuck his head out to check that it was safe. "They are just pixies! I can set this right in just a moment!"

He hopped out from behind his desk. With a flourish of his wand, he proclaimed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

This just seemed to make the pixies angrier. One of them grabbed Lockhart's wand and chucked it out the window. Lockhart yelled in protest, but not because of that. A few other pixies had taken hold of one of Lockhart's self-portraits. With a roar of protest, he lunged and grabbed onto it, trying to pull it back. The pixies struggled for a minute, then decided that it would be a better idea to let the painting go and watch Lockhart go flying.

Most of the students at this point had disappeared out the classroom doors, since the bell had rung. Neville still hung from the chandelier and she, Ron, and Hermione were batting at the pixies with their books, trying to get them to calm down enough to get Neville down from the chandelier.

"I trust you to take care of this," Lockhart called as he made his way to his office, using his portrait as a shield. "Thank you!"

"We're going to be late for History of Magic at this rate!" Ron huffed, trying to grab a pixie out of the ear. It artfully dodged his hand and, just to rub salt in the wound, blew a rasberry in his face. "Eugh!"

Harriet couldn't but agree. Thankfully, her skills as a seeker were coming in handy and she easily plucked several pixies out of the air. Ignoring them as they scratched and bit at her fingers, she stuffed them back in her cage.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hemione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm.

"That's one way of putting it," Harriet said dryly, looking at her now mangled hands. Ron had taken to clubbing his pixies over their heads with his books, knocking them out and keeping them from struggling, and Hermione's freezing charm meant that her pixies were stone still. Harriet's pixies, however, fought her every inch of the way, meaning that her knuckles were now bruised and bleeding.

"Hermione," she informed her friend, as they finished rounding up the last of the pixies. "He didn't have a clue what he was doing!"

"He must have!" Hermione denied vehemently. "You've read his books, Harriet, I know you have! You've seen all the things he's done!'

"He  _says_ he's done!" Ron retorted.

Hermione didn't have a retort to this. Instead, she straightened and fixed Ron with a glare. "Come on. We're late for History of Magic."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, History of Magic Classroom-September 2, 1992**

Remus had already begun his introduction when she, Ron, and Hermione ran, panting heavily, into the classroom. He stopped mid-speech and raised an eyebrow, mildly disapproving. Hariet dropped into her seat and tried to catch her breath.

"Professor Lockhart-"

"Cornish pixies-"

"Evil-"

Remus waved down their explanations. "Mr. Finnegan already explained your  _unorthodox_ DADA assignment."

Seamus snickered.

"You didn't miss anything." Professor Lupin assured. "I was just going over the syllabus for the year and the course expectations."

One of the things that Harriet hated about the beginning of the year was going over course syllabi. It was always incredibly boring.

She should have known that Remus's class would be an exception.

Professor Lupin kept things funny and light, while simultaneously making it clear that he would not tolerate slackers. Nobody seemed to care that the class would seem like a lot of work, though. Everybody was too excited about the fact that, finally, they would be learning something interesting in History of Magic.

As Remus spoke, he wandered up and down the aisles of desks. At one point, he walked past Harriet's seat. In a move so fast that she almost missed it, he dropped a small piece of paper on her lap. Once nobody was looking, she unfolded it.

_You and Ron. Detention with me. 8:30 PM tonight._

Harriet nudged Ron and showed him the message. He made a face at her, but nodded in acceptance.

The class was over a bit later. The students exited, chattering excitedly about their new teacher. Harriet gave Remus a broad smile to show him that she had enjoyed her class. She would have stayed to talk to him, but she was starving, truth be told. She could talk to him after her detention.

"Lunch," Ron groaned. "I'm famished."

"You can't be that hungry," Hermione tutted. "You had breakfast only a few hours ago."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yea, but rounding up those pixies was really hard work. I can't help it that I'm-"

"Oh no!" Harriet cried, suddenly remembering something.

"What?" Hermione demanded, fearing the worst. Harriet turned around and began pulling both of her friends back to Lockhart's classroom.

"Neville! He's still stuck on the chandelier!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry! I know this is late! Turns out there's this thing called real-life that gets in the way of everything!


	18. The Chamber of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any of the dialogue recognizable from the books/movies :)

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**~Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, History of Magic Classroom-September 2, 1992**

Harriet shot Ron a glare that clearly stated, "I hate you. This is all your fault."

Ron pretended to ignore it, but Harriet knew that he had seen it when the tips of his ears began to turn red. She scowled at him and went back to her own parchment, scribbling yet another line down.

_"I will never worry my parents like that again. I will never endanger my life with such a ridiculous stunt again."_

Both lines. One hundred times each. She really  _was_ going to kill Ron, she decided. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had several other kids, she rationalized, as she dotted her  _i's_  with particular vigor. They might not even notice he's gone.

Harriet almost cheered once she was finished. Deciding that Remus might not appreciate it, however, decided not to. Instead, she settled for an enthusiastic, "Done!"

"Me, too!" agreed Ron. Remus looked up from the lesson plan he was writing and levitated the parchment over to him. He scanned them and Harriet held her breath, waiting for some sign that she wouldn't have to redo them all.

Finally, Remus nodded. "Alright. Good work."

Harriet and Ron laughed with relief and hopped up from their seats, gathering their things. Remus raised an eyebrow. "Hopefully this time you'll think twice about doing something like that."

"You mean flying a car into a tree?" Ron snorted.

Harriet frowned. "Honestly, Remus, you're worried for nothing. Where in the world are we going to get  _another_ flying car?"

"Very funny," he chuckled. "Now, get out of here, the both of you."

Ron shrugged and headed for the door, on his way back to the common room. Harriet hesitated. There had been something nagging at her that she really wanted to discuss with Remus. Now might be a good time.

"Go ahead, Ron, I'll only be a minute," she instructed. Ron looked a bit unsure, but, after searching her gaze for a moment, he relented. Remus looked up from his work.

"Is there something worrying you, Harriet?"

"Actually, yeah," she admitted. She moved to sit on the edge of the desk. "It has to do with the dementors."

"What about them?" He gave her a sharp nudge off of the desk. She almost fell, but caught herself, as he knew she would. She straightened her robes and instead went to pick up a chair, tugging it forward a bit closer to the desk. She sat down.

"I was just wondering about what the Dementors did to me," she explained after a moment. "Dementors make you relive your worst memory, so how does that explain the screaming that I heard?"

Remus looked down for a minute. When he looked back up at her, he was reluctant. "Can you not think about which memory the Dementors might force you to re-live? Think very carefully. It might not even be a memory you remember having."

Harriet gave Remus an odd look. "Right, because that makes sense." Remus waited patiently, so she thought for a moment. She had never before heard those two people screaming, but they obviously knew her. But who- That was the moment that Harriet realized what Remus had meant.

"My grandparents?" She asked, her throat suddenly dry. "On the night that they died?"

"I'm sorry, Harriet," Remus said softly. He got up from behind the desk and moved to comfort her, wrapping her in a tight hug. She snuggled into it and took a deep breath. For a moment, neither one of them said anything. Then, Harriet let go of him, making sure to look him squarely in the eye.

Breaking the silence, she said, "I want you to teach me."

"As your History of Magic professor," Remus said after a moment, "that's my job."

"I want you to teach me how to defend myself against dementors," Harriet clarified, sitting up a bit. "There has to be a way."

"There is," Remus said hesitantly. Harriet could sense a 'but' coming. "But, Harriet, the charm is very advanced. Far above the Ordinary Wizarding Levels."

"I don't care!" Harriet argued, jutting her chin out in the raw determination that only a young child could posses. "I don't want to keep hearing their voices every time a dementor gets near me!"

"No more dementors are coming near you, Prongslette," Remus soothed. Harriet crossed her arms.

"You don't know that for sure, Uncle Moony." Remus didn't say anything, so she knew she had him on that point.

"We can take it slowly," she cajoled. "If I get tired, we can stop."

Remus eyed her warily.

"I'll talk to your parents about it," he said finally. Harriet smiled and threw her arms around his neck.

"Thanks, Uncle Moony," she said sincerely.

"We might have to wait a bit," Remus warned. "The full moon is coming up and I'll need to rest."

Harriet nodded, then remembered another question that she had been wanting to ask her Uncle. "Uncle Moony, how did you tell my father and Padfoot that you were a werewolf?"

Remus looked surprised at the change in subject. "I didn't," he said after a moment. "They found out and cornered me in the library one day. Why do you ask?

Harriet bit her lip. "It's just, Ron and Hermione don't know about me- I mean, I haven't told them that I can-"

"You haven't told them that you're a parselmouth?" Remus asked gently. Harriet nodded.

"Harriet, I don't know what to tell you," Remus sighed. "It's up to you when you want to tell them, if you want to tell them at all-"

"I do want to!" Harriet argued. "I just don't know what they'll say."

"Do you honestly think that Ron and Hermione would stop being your friends just because you can talk to snakes?"

Harriet shook her head vehemently. "No! Of course not! But-"

"But it's still scary," Remus finished, nodding in agreement. He rubbed her back for a moment. "I'm sorry I can't help you more."

"It's alright," Harriet sighed, untangling herself from his hug. She picked up her bag and flashed him a genuine smile. "I should probably go."

"It's getting late," Remus confirmed. She dashed up to him and gave him one last peck on the cheek.

Harriet dashed out the door, leaving Remus to finish his work.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Quidditch Pitch, October 30, 1992**

That afternoon, about two months after the new term had begun, Harriet found herself half asleep as she wandered the halls of Hogwarts, broom in hand. Isaura had woken her up with a tight squeeze to wrist about half an hour ago, hissing something about Oliver, Quidditch, and unhealthy obsessions, before falling back into a deep sleep.

After listening to Wood go on for hours about their new Quidditch strategy, Harriet was ready to actually get out onto the pitch and practice. Harriet struggled to keep up with the others, small as she was.

"What's this?" Wood said sharply. Harriet craned her neck to try and see over the tops of everybody else's heads, but couldn't quite manage it. "I've booked the pitch for Gryffindor today, Flint."

Marcus Flint. Slytherin Quidditch team captain. Harriet jumped up to try and get a look. She got a brief glance at dark green robes, but that was it.

"I've got a note," Flint said. She didn't have to see his face to know he wore a smirk. Growling in frustration, Harriet launched herself at the legs standing between her and the scene playing out. She crawled on the floor, trying to fight her way through. Nobody seemed to take any notice of her though, and didn't make it any easier for her.

"You need to train your new Seeker?" Wood asked doubtfully after a moment. "What new Seeker?"

Harriet finally broke through the crowd and toppled onto the grass, landing flat on her back. She found herself staring straight into the disbelieving face of Draco Malfoy. She scowled and spat out a mouthful of grass. He made a disgusted noise and pulled away to avoid it.

"Watch it, Potter!" Malfoy snapped. Harriet didn't dignify this with an answer. Instead, she hopped up from the ground and began to dust herself off.

"You're the new Seeker?" Ron demanded, having arrived only a few seconds ago with Hermione. Draco shot him a scathing look.

"Not that it's any of your business, Weasleby" he sneered, "but yes, I am."

"And that's not the only new addition to the Slytherin team," Flint boasted. That's when Harriet realized that all of the Slytherins carried brand new brooms. Sleek, dark, and obviously fast, they made Harriet's own top-of-the-line Nimbus look like nothing more than a twig.

"New Nimbus 2001's," Ron breathed, awestruck. "Where did you get those?"

Hermione gave him a swift kick in the shins, annoyed that he had shown any admiration for any Slytherin anywhere.

"A gift," Draco said smoothly, "from my father."

Hermione scoffed. "At least nobody on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in."

"That's right," agreed Ron, nodding, eager to get back on her good side. "They got in on pure talent."

"Nobody asked for your opinions!" Malfoy retorted, stepping forward, away from the group. "Filthy blood traitor and your mudblood girlfriend!"

Harriet didn't hesitate. Ignoring all of the hissing and shouting from behind her, she threw herself at Malfoy in a full body tackle, yelling insults the whole way through.

"Shut up, Malfoy! You git! Don't you go saying things like that about my best friends! you'll never have friends as great as they do, and that's why you're so-"

The rest of Harriet's little speech was drowned out as Oliver yanked her up hard with his arms wrapped firmly around her middle, knocking the wind out of her.

Malfoy sat up, eyes wide, "You're crazy, Potter!"

Harriet glared and struggled violently against Wood.

"Harriet!" protested Hermione, obviously baffled at everybody's reactions, "Stop! He isn't worth it!"

"What is going on here?" demanded McGonagall, crossing the pitch hurriedly. Remus and Lockhart both followed. Wood dropped Harriet as soon as he saw Remus narrow his eyes in their direction, although she doubted it had anything to do with their close proximity and that she had gotten into trouble so soon after her last stunt.

"Potter just attacked me!" Malfoy said quickly, darting up off of the ground, and thrusting his jaw forward, revealing a nicely forming bruise.

Ron tried his hardest to hide a smirk.

"That's not true!" Harriet denied.

"So you didn't attack Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked.

Harriet shifted her weight back and forth. "No," she admitted, "I did. But-"

"No 'buts,'" McGonagall interrupted. She grabbed Harriet by her collar and began to tug her away, ignoring the protests of her classmates. "There are no excuses for violence at Hogwarts-"

"He called Ron a blood traitor!" Harriet argued, yanking herself free and glaring at McGonagall in the dim light of the Hogwarts corridor.

"And he called Hermione a- a mudblood," Harriet stuttered. McGonagall gasped and Remus nodded acceptingly. Even Lockhart looked scandalized.

Harriet tried to catch Remus's eye. She knew that he was disappointed in her for fighting, but she couldn't help it. Besides the fact that Malfoy had insulted her two best friends, those two particular insults had hit her far too close to home, bringing up images of both her mother and her beloved godfather.

"I understand your anger, Miss Potter," McGonagall said after she had composed herself, "but that does not change the fact that violence is not permitted at Hogwarts."

"Yes, Professor," Harriet sighed.

McGonagall smiled slightly through her frown. Until that moment, Harriet hadn't even known that was possible. "Perhaps another detention with Professor Lupin-"

"Actually, Professor," Moony interrupted, looking a bit disappointed, "I'll be  _otherwise occupied_ these next few days."

"Ah, yes, of course," McGonagall hurried to save herself. "Then I suppose-"

"I'd be more than happy to take Miss Potter under my wing," Lockhart interrupted smiling in what he probably believed was a winning manner.

"Actually," Harriet squeaked, "I was thinking that perhaps Professor Snape would be a better choice."

Lockhart went to argue, so Harriet quickly finished with, "I might enjoy my detention with you too much, Professor. It'd hardly be a fitting punishment."

He looked taken aback, but then he laughed heartily. "Harriet, Harriet, Harriet, I assure you, as a Hogwarts professor, I will be the judge of whether or not the punishment is fitting and I personally believe that a few hours of helping me with some work will be the perfect punishment!."

"No," Harriet denied, "no, it isn't!"

"Actually, I think Professor Lockhart might be on to something," Remus put in mildly. Harriet shot him a withering look, which he answered with a smile.

She was going to kill him.

"I guess it's settled, then," McGonagall said firmly. "Miss Potter, you are to report for detention with Lockhart tomorrow evening."

Harriet tried to think of a way out of it, but there was nothing. She nodded weakly, the thought of her impending night making her just a bit queasy.

Later, though, when she saw Malfoy sitting in the Great Hall with a plaster on his nose, she decided that it was completely worth it.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hell... Ah, Detention with Lockhart- October 31, 1992**

Harriet paused to stretch out her now stiff hand. After four hours of detention with Lockhart, she was about ready to snap.

Apparently Lockhart's idea of an appropriate detention was helping him sign his fan-mail. When Harriet had arrived at his classroom, he had pulled her aside and begun to lecture her.

"Harriet, Harriet, Harriet," he had told her, "I'm so glad that I have this opportunity to talk to you alone."

"Why?" Harriet asked had unsurely.

"When I first heard about your little stunt with the car, I thought to myself, 'Well, that's not like her, at all!'"

"How would you know?" Harriet demanded. He barely knew her, after all.

"Then, after your little fight with Mr. Malfoy, I realized!" Lockhart chuckled softly to himself. "I could have kicked myself! Oh, Harriet, if you wish to get noticed, crashing cars and starting fights is not the way to go about it!"

"Get noticed." Harriet deadpanned.

Lockhart had raised an eyebrow. "I understand, Harriet, really, I do. You look at somebody as famous as I and think 'Why can't I be like that?' But, Harriet! I was like you, once. A nobody. Actually, you might have a bit of a head start, what with that whole You-Know-Who business-" his eyes darted to her scar and he seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment.

"Still, this is not the time for you to be trying to get noticed. This is the time for  _studying,_ Harriet. Do you think I ever got where I am today without studying, hm? There will be plenty of time for fame and glory, later. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harriet said through clenched teeth.

"I don't think you do," denied Lockhart. He shrugged it off. "No matter. That's why I've devised the  _perfect_ detention! It will show you  _exactly_ what the pitfalls of fame are!"

"And what exactly is this perfect detention?"

"You'll be helping me sign my fan-mail!" He had exclaimed extravagantly.

That was the start of Harriet's own personal nightmare.

Several hours later, and at least a hundred letters, Harriet had had enough. She took a deep breath and resisted the urge to scream.

_Rip, tear, kill. Blood. I smell BLOOD!_

Harriet did scream.

"Harriet, my dear girl! What's wrong?" demanded Lockhart. Harriet had drawn her wand and was looking around suspiciously.

Ignoring the nickname, Harriet asked him urgently, "Didn't you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Lockhart asked, looking lost.

"The voice!" Harriet demanded, straining to hear more.

Lockhart shook his head slowly. "I didn't hear a thing, but- Goodness gracious! Look at the time! We've been here for four hours, now! No wonder you've been hearing voices! You must be exhausted!"

"But, Professor-" Harriet went to deny anything of the sort, but Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Now, now, Harriet," he said, shooing her out of the room, "I know you've been enjoying yourself, but there is such thing as 'too much of a good thing!' Now run along and get to bed! Long day, tomorrow, I'm sure!"

Harriet sputtered as he all but shoved her out of the room. When the door closed behind her, she stopped moving, stopped breathing even, just waiting for the raspy voice to return.

Silence.

Satisfied for the time being, she began to make her way back to her dormitories. She was hungry, sure, but her exhaustion outweighed her need for food and this wouldn't have been the first time she'd gone to bed without dinner.

She had almost made it to the staircases when she heard it again.

_Rip. Tear. Kill. KILL._

It was moving, she realized. She pressed her ear to the wall of the corridor and heard it more clearly. It was in the walls and it was moving.

She ran, trying to keep up with it. Whatever it was, it had to be either very large or very quick for her to have trouble keeping up.

Her lungs were burning as she rounded a corner.

"Ah!" She screeched, just a bit more high-pitched than she would admit. Ron and Hermione screamed, too.

"Harriet," her red-haired friend gasped, clutching his chest, "what in blazes was that about?"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, taking a relaxing breath of her own. "You didn't come to dinner and we were worried."

"I-I was in detention with Lockhart," Harriet said, casting aside the sympathetic glances they now wore. "Did you hear that? The voice?"

"What voice?"

"The one in the walls," Harriet explained, placing her ear against the wall again.

"Oh, right," Ron said sarcastically, "that voice."

"I'm not being funny!" Harriet snapped, just a bit on edge.

Hermione soothed her.

"Nobody said you were. Now, tell us a bit more about the voice."

"I heard it for the first time in detention with Lockhart, but he didn't seem to hear it." Harriet explained. "I heard it again on my way back to my dorm. I was just following it when I ran into you two."

"We didn't hear any voice, Harriet," Hermione said hesitantly.

Ron added quickly, "But maybe we weren't close enough, mate."

_Rip. Tear. Thirsty. So thirsty._

"There it is again!" Harriet announced suddenly.

Hermione and Ron both looked at her worriedly. Harriet knew without either of them saying so that they couldn't hear a thing. But the voice was real, she assured herself, it was as real as she was.

_Blood. I SMELL BLOOD. Rip, tear, KILL!_

"I think it want's to kill somebody!" Harriet announced, before running after it. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances and then dashed after her.

"Hang on!" Ron protested. "If it wants to kill somebody, why are we running after it?"

Harriet stopped short, forcing Ron and Hermione to bump into her.

Ron straightened himself up and grinned proudly. "Finally listening to Ron, hm? Decided that he actually makes sense sometimes?"

"Sorry to disappoint, mate, but that's not why I stopped," Harriet denied.

Hermione whimpered and turned to bury her face in Ron's shoulder. In shock himself, he wrapped an arm around her and Harriet gave her a firm hug.

Mrs. Noris, Flich's cat, was levitated in the middle of the hallway, stock still.

Harriet let go of Hermione and bravely took a step forward. She felt Hermione reach for her and try to pull her back, but she ignored it. She took another step and frowned at the odd 'squelch' her feet made.

Harriet wrinkled her nose and pulled her foot up from the puddle. Glancing around, she realized that most of the hallway had been flooded. Deciding that there was no way for her to avoid getting wet, she took another firm step, trying to ignore how the edge of her trouser legs now felt as they were weighed down by water.

"Mrs. Noris?" she said hesitantly. She wasn't too sure what she was expecting (it's not as though she could talk), but the cat made no sign that she had heard her. Harriet reached a hand forward and gently prodded the animal. It bobbed a bit, as though it were hanging on the end of a string, and drifted in response to her touch.

Harriet gasped as it movement forced her to focus on the wall behind it. She hadn't noticed it before, but behind that cat, a message had been scrawled out.

"The Chamber of Secrets has Been Opened." Hermione read softly. "Enemies of the Heir, Beware."'

"Please tell me that's ketchup," Ron pleaded. Harriet brought a finger up and touched the lettering on the wall. The bright red liquid was still warm. She rubbed it between two of her fingers.

"It's blood," she said sagely.

"We shouldn't be here," Ron decided. "We really shouldn't."

"We can't just leave Mrs. Norris!" Harriet defended, eying the floating cat warily.

"Oh, what has she ever done for us?" Ron demanded. "If the roles were reversed, she would just leave us here!"

"She's a cat, Ron," Harriet said after a moment, as though it explained everything. Ron didn't have an answer to that, but that didn't mean he was ready to let the matter drop. Before he had a chance to defend herself, though, a large crowd of students, obviously just back from dinner.

They stopped short and grew silent. Harriet understood how it must look to them: Harriet standing in the center of the hallway, Ron and Hermione watching horrified; Mrs. Norris floating, apparently dead, Harriet's wand drawn; the message scrawled on the wall, Harriet's hand covered in blood; the hallway flooded, Harriet's trousers soaking wet.

She jumped backwards, rubbing her hand clean on her robe and moving to stand next to Ron and Hermione, both of whom tried to protect her from the eyes of the crowd.

"'Enemies of the Heir, Beware?'" came a slow, drawling voice from somewhere in the center of the crowd. Harriet almost groaned aloud. Malfoy was the last person she wanted to think about right now.

"You'll be next, mudbloods!"

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Scratch that. Filch was the last person she wanted to think about right now.

He elbowed his way through the crowd, ignoring the squeals and annoyed grunts of the students. When he broke through the crowd, his face paled at the sight of Mrs. Norris.

He clutched at his chest in shock and stumbled backwards.

"My cat! What happened to Mrs. Norris? Tell me!"

Then, his eyes landed on Harriet and her two friends, and he drew the same conclusion as the other did. "

"You!" he cried. Harriet jumped in surprise."You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll -"

"Argus!"

Harriet breathed a sigh of relief as Dumbledore's firm voice cut through the chatter. The students silenced as he, along with a few other teachers, cut through the crowd with a lot less hassle than Filch. He ignored Harriet , Ron, and Hermione and headed straight for Mrs. Norris. In a second, he had flicked his wand and undone the spell that held her floating. I

"Come with me Argus," he said to Filch. "You too, Miss Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger."

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free -"

Harriet would never admit it, but Lockhart had a point. That's why she felt no surprise when Dumbledore agreed.

It did little to dampen her displeasure, though.

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore. The crowd gave them little trouble. She, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore, Lockhart, McGonagall and Snape managed to make their way through the dark halls and into Lockhart's room.

Harriet was almost expecting to see Remus there, but then realized that it was his "time of the month."

Under any other circumstances, Harriet and Ron both would have laughed when they saw Lockhart's portraits. Covered in pajamas and hair-rollers, they were desperate to remain out of sight of prying eyes. Hermione shushed them both disapprovingly.

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back.

Dumbledore gingerly set Mrs. Norris down on the desk and the other professors all crowded around.

Harriet gnawed worriedly on her lip and sat down into one of the chairs in the corner. Dumbledore's glasses were perched at the end of his long, crooked nose, allowing him to examine Mrs. Norris more closely.

He poked and prodded it gently. McGonagall was hunched over next to him, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

As for Snape, he looked as though he were having a difficult time trying not to laugh or smile, his lips twitching upward almost imperceptibly.

At first, Harriet didn't understand why Mrs. Norris's death would be something amusing- well, she wouldn't deny that she did get a small amount of vindictive pleasure from it. That cat had been the bane of students everywhere.

Snape was a professor, though. He wouldn't have found  _that_ much pleasure from it.

Unless...

He was!

Harriet almost smirked gleefully. He was laughing at Lockhart!

The idiot was bumbling around, babbling complete nonsense about curses and cures and how it was completely awful that he hadn't been there.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture. I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter-curse that would have saved her ..."

Filch let out a huge sob at this.

Harriet couldn't help but feel a tad sorry for the man. She never liked Filch or Mrs. Norris, but she was the only family he had. Harriet could remember quite clearly the time when Isaura was the only family she had and Harriet hated to think about what she would have done without her friend.

Still, Harriet couldn't help but watch the procedure on tender-hooks. Harriet had barely escaped expulsion earlier this year.

If Dumbledore believed Filch, Harriet doubted she would escape it again.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words in a language Harriet didn't understand. Harriet also didn't understand what the aged wizard was expecting to happen. Mrs. Norris was dead and no amount of tapping with her wand was going to bring her back, right?

"... I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets which cleared the matter up at once ..."

That's when Dumbledore said something that surprised her, if not everybody else, too.

"She's not dead, Argus."

Lockhart stopped short and looked faintly disappointed that his various counter-curses would have no use here.

"Not dead?" Filch gasped.

"No," Dumbledore said gently. "She's been petrified."

"Ah!" Lockhart nodded sagely. "I thought so!"

"How it has happened, however, I cannot say," admitted Dumbledore.

"She did it!" Filch screeched, pointing a bony, calloused finger at Harriet. She shook her head rapidly.

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" she defended.

"Liar!" Filch argued back.

"No second-year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly."It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced -"

"And who better to know Dark Magic then 'er?" Filch demanded, face reddening. "What with that godfather of hers and his family-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore said, drawing himself up to his full height. Harriet was almost sputtering in disbelief. Both Hermione and Ron had stood up, ready to defend their friend's family.

There was no need.

"Sirius Black has been cleared of all charges against him," Dumbledore warned. "All people in this room would be more than willing to vouch for his innocence-"

Snape's sneer proved that he might have been that exception.

"-not to mention his invaluable effort during the war."

Dumbledore fixed Filch with a stern, albeit understanding, glare. "I understand you're distress, Argus, honestly, I do. However, there is no need to be hurtling pointless accusation towards Miss Potter or her relatives."

"But, but-" Filch stammered.

"I assure you, the culprit will be caught."

"Why was she there, though?" Filch demanded. Dumbledore frowned, obviously puzzled about this fact himself.

"If I might speak," Snape interrupted smoothly.

Harriet let out a deep breath, even though she could feel her two friends tensing next to her. Harriet wasn't worried. Although Snape might have had to play the enemy, he wouldn't say anything that could get her into serious trouble, especially if he knew (as she was sure he knew now) that she was innocent.

"Potter and her friends might have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Although," and here Harriet could see that Snape wasn't acting, "it is rather suspicious. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why not at the feast?"

"Ah, that would be my fault professor," Lockhart said. Harriet had never been more grateful for him. "We were signing my fan-mail."

Harriet groaned.

"Yes, yes, Harriet it was fun!" Lockhart agreed, misinterpreting her noise of annoyance. "As I'm sure you can understand, time got away from us."

"We had just gone looking for Harriet, Professor," Hermione offered. "She hadn't shown up to dinner and we were starting to get worried. We had just found her when she said- she, well, she said that-"

"Go on," hissed Snape.

"I said that I wasn't very hungry." Harriet interrupted, shooting Hermione a pointed look. She had a feeling that hearing voices probably wasn't the best thing for others to know about.

She turned back to Snape and met his gaze.

"Not hungry?" he questioned.

Harriet nodded. "That's right, sir. We were just headed back to the common room when we found Mrs. Norris."

Snape obviously didn't believe her.

"I suggest, Headmaster," he smirked, "that Potter is leaving not telling us the entire story. being entirely truthfully," he said. "Perhaps it would be best if she were deprived of privileges until she is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feels he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until she is ready to be honest."

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the girl playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," Dumbledore said after a moment.

He searched Harriet's gaze for a moment. She felt as though she was being x-rayed. She felt a wash of misplaced indignation wash over her. He should trust her! She stopped Quirrell last year! The least the old coot could do was-

No.

Of course Dumbledore didn't trust her. She was always getting into mischief. It didn't make him any less fond of her.

"My cat has been Petrified!" Filch protested, when it became clear that Harriet was getting off unpunished. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We'll be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore with is never ending patience. "In fact, unless I am mistaken, Madam Sprout's class is in the process of repotting Mandrakes. As soon as they are fully grown, I will have a potion made which will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I could do it in my sleep, I'm sure!"

Harriet felt a burst of annoyance.

"Professor Snape is the potions master at Hogwarts!" she defended, unable to help herself. Hermione and Ron looked at her in disbelief, and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I am perfectly capable defending myself, Potter," he sneered. Then he nodded icily in Lockhart's direction. "Although she is correct.  _I_ will make it."

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Harriet and her two friends did not hesitate. They left as fast as they quickly could. As soon as they were out of sight, they ran, taking the stairs two at a time, until they were eventually a floor up.

They ducked into an empty classroom.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Harriet squinted through the darkness of the classroom. Their faces were illuminated by the silvery light of the full moon beaming through the window.

"No," said Ron, not even thinking.

"Even in the wizarding world," Hermione agreed, "hearing voices is never a good sign."

A portrait on the wall nodded in agreement. "She's right, you know."

Harriet shook off the reply and turned back to her own friends.

"You do believe me, don't you?" She asked. She was afraid of the answer, but asked anyways.

"Course I do," said Ron quickly. "But - you must admit it's weird ..."

"No need to state the obvious, Ron," Harriet sighed. "The whole thing is weird. What was that writing on the wall? The Chamber has been opened... What's the Chamber of Secrets?"

A clock chimed somewhere, making the three of them jump.

"Midnight," said Ron. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Tower, Girl's Dorm Room- October 31, 1992**

Harriet sunk gratefully into bed that evening. After being accused by Mr. Filch of having kill his cat (and right on the heels of detention with Lockhart, too!), she was exhausted. She desperately wanted to rest. In fact, she would have, but she need to do her Potions reading for the night.

She grabbed her tattered book and stroked Isaura softly, who hissed in pleasure. "Now would probably be a bad time to get on Snape's bad side, hm?"

Isaura hissed in agreement and curled herself near Harriet's side, taking advantage of the warmth underneath the covers.

Harriet flipped open the book to the simple sleeping draught they were learning. She now understood why the text was for older students. While the potions were essentially the same, the instructions were much more detailed to ensure a more effective brew. In fact, if it hadn't been for those one-on-one sessions with Snape over the past few years, she would have been completely lost.

There was also the matter of the book's legibility. All of the original text was there, but it had been crossed out and marked up to a point where Harriet couldn't tell where the book ended and the notes began.

She gave up on trying to ignore the notes and instead began to read them as diligently as the text. Harriet had no way of telling whether or not the tips noted by the Prince (as she had taken to calling him) were any good, but she resolved to try them out during her next Potions class.

_...instead of peeling the root, use the handle of the blade to crush it, thus extracting more juice._

"Harriet?" Hermione peered around the curtain in her room.

Harriet jumped in surprise and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"It's time for bed," Hermione informed her primly.

"Oh, alright, just a minute," Harriet differed, going back to some of the notes in her book.

Hermione looked reluctant, but didn't argue.

"Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harriet offered half-heartedly.

"Ah, Hermione," Harriet called back after a moment. Hermione popped back around the curtain expectedly.  "Have you ever heard of a spell called  _Muffliato?"_

Hermione slowly shook her head in the negative. "No, what does it do?"

The text, Harriet had realized, was also filled with a surprising number of spells Harriet had never heard of. Scrawled into the top corner of the page was the aforementioned charm, along with a brief note.

"I don't know," Harriet lied, "I just heard about it somewhere and was wondering."

"Oh, alright." Hermione disappeared again and Harriet tried to ignore her guilty conscience. She did know what the spell did, it was written in the book. Apparently, it filled the ears of whoever was nearby with a faint, buzzing sound.

Harriet wasn't sure why she didn't tell Hermione. Maybe it was because, for once, she knew something that the clever witch didn't. This charm, assuming it worked, was between her and the  _Half-Blood Prince._

For reasons beyond her own knowledge, she didn't want Hermione butting in on it.

She placed the book rather reluctantly on her bedside table and settled in for a good night's sleep. After the events of the night, she was looking forward to getting in a few good hours.

That night, though, she dreamt.

_Harriet was walking down a hallway. Hogwarts, she recognized, but not Hogwarts as she had ever known it. She was heading to Headmaster Dippet's office-no, that's not right._

_Dumbledore was headmaster._

_Dumbledore taught transfiguration. Dippet was headmaster._

_Harriet's legs carried her down the hall much faster than she was used to. This matter was urgent. It was important._

_Harriet reached the entrance to the Headmaster's office and recited the password._

_Caput Draconis._

_When had the password changed?_

_It's been like this for months._

_Why wasn't it a candy? The password was always candy._

_No it wasn't. Dippet would never do something that idiotic._

_Dumbledore was headmaster._

_No, he isn't._

_"Enter," called an old wizard in a wheezing voice. Harriet entered the room. The entire office was clean, if not clinical, and the curtains were drawn, revealing the ruby-red sky. Gone were the various trinkets and maps and books. There were no papers thrown haphazardly around the desk._

_But those things had never been there, had they? The office had looked like this since she had first started at Hogwarts._

_"Ah, Riddle," said the Headmaster._

_No, she wasn't Riddle. She was Harriet, Harriet Potter. Just Harriet. Prongslette._

_But she wasn't, was she?_

_No, she was Riddle, sixth year at Hogwarts and she didn't want to go home. She desperately didn't want to go home._

_"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" she asked, his-her-their voice not betraying how nervous they were._

_"Sit down," Dippet said gently. They didn't move. "I've just been reading your letter."_

_I never sent a letter._

_Yes, we did._

_"Oh," they sat down finally. they gripped their hands together very tightly._

_I resisted the urge to fiddle with my hair, like I usually did._

_No, we didn't. We never had that habit._

_"My dear boy," Dippet began, it wasn't going to be good. It never was when people started their sentences like that. Dippet, Lockhart-_

_Lockhart? I don't know a Lockhart._

_Yes, I do._

_No, we don't._

_That's right, we don't._

_"I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"_

_No, we can't go back there. Not to the orphanage._

_Not the orphanage, the Dursleys, I can't go back to the Dursleys._

_We don't live with the Dursleys._

_My parents took me away._

_Our parents are dead._

_No they aren't! They're waiting for you! Go home, go home, I want to go home._

_"No," they said at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that — to that —"_

_"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" prodded Dippet, curious, but not judgmental._

_I live with my parents._

_We live at the orphanage. Our parents are dead._

_"Yes, sir," they , reddening slightly._

_"You are Muggle-born?"_

_Half-blood._

_"Half-blood, sir," they said._

_Muggle-born mother, pure-blood father._

_No._

_"Muggle father, witch mother."_

_"And are both your parents —?"_

_They're both alive._

_No, they aren't. They died and left me to rot._

_"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me — Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."_

_My name is Harriet._

_You're Tom Marvolo Riddle._

_No, I am not._

_Yes, we are._

_That's right, we are._

_Dippet clucked his tongue sympathetically._

_"The thing is, Tom," he sighed, "Special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…"_

_What circumstances?_

_"You mean all these attacks, sir?" they said._

_Attacks?_

_Attacks._

_Like the one on Mrs. Norris?_

_On students._

_No students have been attacked._

_Yes, they have._

_"Precisely," said the headmaster. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl…"_

_What little girl?_

_The little girl in the bathroom._

_"You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the — er — source of all this unpleasantness…"_

Their eyes grew wider.

_We know the source of these attacks._

_No, I don't._

_We do. Of course we do._

_We know._

_Of course we know._

_Who?_

_She's our friend._

_"Sir — if the person was caught — if it all stopped —"_

_"What do you mean?" demanded Dippet, his vice growing higher. He sat up in his chair so quickly that he almost fell off._

_"Riddle, do you know something about these attacks?"_

_Yes._

_"No, sir," they lied quickly._

_Dippet sighed, disappointed._

_Tell him the truth._

_No._

_"You may go, Tom…"_

_They slipped quietly out of the room._

_They moved silently down the spiral staircase and when they got out, they paused in the middle of the hallway._

_We can't go back to the orphanage._

_Tell them what you know!_

_We can't!_

_Why not?_

_We can't!_

_There must be something you can do!_

_There isn't._

_Are you sure!_

_Yes, we can't- No, wait!_

_What?_

_There is something we can do!_

_They rushed off down the corridor, almost running._

_They reached the entrance hall-_

_They're was nobody around._

_They rounded past the marble staircase-_

_They were going to make it!_

_"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?" Albus Dumbledore called._

_He looked younger, by at least fifty-years._

_No, he didn't._

_Right, of course he didn't. He looked exactly the same as when we last saw him._

_Yes._

_"I had to see the headmaster, sir," they said._

_Dippet is headmaster, not Dumbledore._

_Yes._

_"Well, hurry off to bed," said Dumbledore, looking at them with those sharp eyes of his._

_"Best not to roam the corridors these days. Especially not since the Chamber of Secrets has been opened."_

Harriet woke up drenched in sweat and tangled in her blanket. She reached up and touched her scar.

It was burning.


	19. Horcruxes

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

 

 

**Harriet Potter, The Great Hall-November 1, 1992**

Harriet made no mention of her dream to Hermione or Ron at breakfast the next morning. She had a feeling they were already worried about her hearing voices, so there was no need to add her scar bothering her to the mix.

She ate another forkful of scrambled eggs and muttered sympathetically to Ron, who was currently bemoaning Scabbers.

"I've looked everywhere for him," he wailed. "It's been months since I saw him last. What if he's hurt? Or dead? Stupid rat, making me worry."

"Isaura hasn't seen him, either," Harriet realized. Her snake would have mentioned it. "I'm surprised. She spends most of her day wandering around the castle. She would have noticed him if he was lying about."

"You always say things like that, Harriet," Hermione mentioned off-handedly. "You talk about Isaura like you can understand her."

Harriet choked on her juice. "Yeah, well, isn't it like that for all people with their pets? I mean, I can sort of understand Hedwig, especially when she's angry with me. And Ron understands Scabbers, right?"

Ron didn't bother answering her. He squirted some ketchup onto scrambled eggs, as though he might be able to drown his worries in it.

Harriet pointed her fork at it. "That can't be healthy, mate."

"I don't care," he told her firmly. He took a large bite of the stuff. Harriet rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.

"We have History of Magic today, right?" Hermione asked. Harriet frowned.

"I think so. Don't know why you're asking me, though. You know our schedule better than I do."

Hermione shrugged. "I was just wondering."

"Why are you so interested in that class all of a sudden?" grumbled Ron. Hermione shot him a glare.

"She wants to know more about the Chamber," Harriet guessed. Hermione looked at Harriet, betrayed. Harriet rolled her eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that, Hermione, everybody wants to know."

"A lot of people have gotten curious," Hermione conceded. "It's just a shame that I've already returned my copy of  _Hogwarts: A History._ All the other copies have been checked out."

"Already?" Harriet asked, surprised. It was very early. She looked around her and, sure enough, students from all houses were huddled into clusters, pouring over the book together. She let out a low whistle.

"I know the Chamber was mentioned," Hermione continued, her face screwed up in concentration, "but I can't seem to remember what the book said."

"You didn't memorize the entire text?" gasped Ron in mock astonishment. "Must've been an off day for you, then."

Hermione snapped, "Just because you're upset because you've lost your rat, Ronald, does not mean you can take it out on me."

"I didn't lose Scabbers!" Ron retorted. "He wandered off!"

"Just like your Potions book wandered off, I suppose," Hermione said scathingly.

Harriet rolled her eyes and gathered her things. "If you want to know more about the Chamber, Hermione, try to bring it up in class today."

Hermione nodded and packed her books away as well. "That was what I was going to do, originally."

"Just don't mention it to Lockhart," Ron said, running to catch up with them as they exited the Great Hall. "He'll just make stuff up."

"Best ask Uncle Moony," Harriet agreed. "At least he'll admit it when he doesn't know what he's talking about."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, History of Magic Classroom-November 1, 1992**

"I don't know what you're talking about," Remus denied vehemently, "and I hardly see what this has to do with our discussion for today."

"I know it's irrelevant," Hermione said, pursuing an answer doggedly, "but you're the History of Magic teacher! If anybody knows anything about the Chamber of Secrets, it's you! Besides, isn't it better that we get our information from you, instead of shoddy, second-hand, sources?"

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I really should know better by now than to argue with your logic, shouldn't I?"

He was silent for a moment. "As most of you know by now, Hogwarts was founded by four of the brightest and most powerful witches and wizards of the time. Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. For years, three of the founders existed quite peacefully together. One did not."

He paused, knowing very well that most of the students knew which founder it was.

"Slytherin believed that the school should be more selective about the students they accepted. He believed that only students from wizarding families should be allowed entrance into Hogwarts, students otherwise known as purebloods. The other founders would hear nothing of it, so Slytherin left- but not before swearing that he would have the last laugh. He left rumors of a secret room, the Chamber of Secrets, which would only be opened when his heir returned to Hogwarts, ridding the school of Muggleborns for good."

Remus looked around and seeing the anxious glances of a few students, hastened to reassure them.

"Naturally the school has been searched many times, but no sign of any such room has been found."

"Only the hair of Slytherin can open it though!" Crabbe argued. Harriet gaped at him. She hadn't even known he knew how to talk.

"That's the  _heir_ of Slytherin, Mr. Crabbe, but I digress. If there was any such Chamber at the school, it would have been found. Some of the greatest wizards in the world have searched the school over the years, including Dumbledore."

"But what's supposed to be  _in_ the Chamber, professor?" Hermione prodded.

"The Chamber," Remus winced, "is said to be home to a monster. But it's all just legend, of course."

"But the writing on the wall-" Seamus protested.

"A prank," Remus cut off, "a sinister one, but a prank nonetheless."

"Has the Chamber ever been opened before?" Harriet piped up, remembering her dream.

Remus looked surprised that she had joined in on the discussion, but got over it and shook his head.

"No, it has not. At least, not to my knowledge."

Harriet nodded, accepting his answer for the moment.

"Now, if we're done with that, I suggest we get back to class. No 'buts!'" He added sternly. The groaning subsided and Remus's instruction continued. Harriet paid little attention to it though. Her mind was occupied with more serious matters.

When they had exited the classroom, Ron began to speak almost immediately.

"What kind of monster do you think is inside the Chamber?" wondered Ron aloud. Harriet shrugged, but Hermione looked contemplative.

"I don't know, but Dumbledore wasn't sure how to cure Mrs. Norris. That means that whatever is inside, probably isn't human."

"So you think the Chamber really exists?"

"Of course it does," Hermione said immediately. "Couldn't you tell? Professor Lupin is worried. All the professors are."

"They should be, if they've had to deal with this before." Harriet said without thinking. Hermione and Ron looked at her incredulously.

"Professor Lupin said that the Chamber had never been opened before."

"Yes, but I had this dream," Harriet began relaying the matter to her friends. She finished and they were both silent for a moment.

"It was just a dream, Harriet," Hermione said finally. "We have no reason to take the word of your subconscious over the word of Professor Moony- a man who, may I remind you, you said you would trust with your life!"

"When did I say that?" Harriet asked incredulously.

"It was implied," Hermione admitted after a moment. "But the point still stands, Harriet, that there isn't any evidence to back up your dream. It was probably just the stress."

"The name of the boy, though, Hermione," Harriet persisted. "I've heard it somewhere before!"

"You could've heard it anywhere," Hermione denied.

"But when I woke up, my sca-"

"Look!" Ron pointed out suddenly, eager to interrupt the argument and preventing Harriet from finishing her sentence. "It's the corridor where Mrs. Norris was attacked!"

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione all stopped short, surprised that they had ended up here. There were several different routes to the Great Hall for lunch, but they had chosen this one without even thinking about it.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," Harriet said innocently. Hermione and Ron answered by dropping their bags and beginning to examine the walls and floor in search of clues.

"Scorch marks!" Ron said surprised. "Look at- gah!"

"What?" Harriet demanded.

"S-spiders," Ron stuttered. He pointed towards a crack in the window. At least twenty spiders were scuttling around it, doing their best to squeeze through. Harriet frowned.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?"

"No," admitted Hermione. "It's all very strange."

"What about the water?" Harriet asked. "This hallway was flooded earlier. Where did the water come from?"

"I think it came from here," Ron said, moving towards a door. He stopped short.

"That's the girl's bathroom," he said, turning bright red.

"You've been in the girl's bathroom before," Harriet pointed out reasonably. She took Ron's hand and pulled him into the restroom.

There was a reason nobody used this bathroom. It was probably the gloomiest bathroom in the universe. The lighting was dark, the floors moldy, and not all of the faucets worked. If things couldn't have gotten worse, there also the matter of Moaning Myrtle.

Ron went to say something, but both Harriet and Hermione shushed him.

"We shouldn't be in here," he hissed. "If I get caught-"

"Oh, don't worry about that," denied Harriet. "Nobody comes in here."

"Why not?" Ron asked, confused.

"Moaning Myrtle," Hermione said succinctly.

"Who is Moaning Myrtle?" Ron asked.

" _I'm_ Moaning Myrtle!" screeched a load voice. A slightly chubby girl floated out from one the stalls. Ron jumped backwards in shock. She glared at the three of them through her glasses and sniffed loudly.

"What is  _he_ doing here?" she demanded, quite reasonably, Harriet thought, for Myrtle. "He's a  _boy_ and this is the  _girl's_ bathroom."

"We just wanted to show Ron how nice it is in here, Myrtle," Hermione said hesitantly. Myrtle scoffed and eyed Ron, who was now as pale as she was.

"Really?" Myrtle said hopefully.

"Sure," he nodded after a moment. "I love what you've done with the place. It's very, er, gloomy and whatnot. The mold is a nice touch."

Myrtle let out a squeal and her cheeks grew darker.

"We really need to be going now, Myrtle," Harriet said nervously. "We'll come by and visit another time, alright?"

"Alright," Myrtle said, obviously in better spirits.

"Goodbye, Ron!" She added as an afterthought.

Ron gave her a hesitant wave as he followed Harriet and Hermione out the door and back in to the hall. They each picked up their things and began to head to the Great Hall.

Ron's ears grew pinker with each of Harriet's and Hermione's giggles.

* * *

**Lily, Snape, and the Marauders, Dumbledore's Office- November 15, 1992**

"I have called you hear to discuss a very grave matter," Dumbledore began silently. Snape watched on from the shadows as Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all exchanged worried glances on the couch.

"I never like it when a conversation starts like that," noted Sirius, but there was apprehension written all over the tense lines of his face.

"I fear that Voldemort is once again growing stronger."

"Voldemort is dead," James bit out. "Even he can't come back to life once he has been killed."

Remus faltered. "He can't. Can he?"

"There are ways," Dumbledore said quietly, "But they are not so much returning from the dead as they are insurance against dying. Are you familiar with the term 'horcrux?'"

Sirius seemed to be the only one who recognized the term. He paled. "Voldemort wouldn't- I mean he couldn't- Did he?"

"I'm afraid he did, Sirius." Dumbledore said gently.

"What?" demanded Lily. "What did he do?"

"A Horcrux is a very powerful object. A Dark witch or wizard can literally  _split their soul_  and hide a fragment of it. Later if they are killed, as long as that fragment of the soul is still protected, then they too are protected from true death. It's about as close to immortality as a person can come," explained Sirius.

"How do you know that?" James frowned, looking at his friend in a new light.

Sirius grimaced. "Dear old dad, that's how."

"And you think Voldemort made one of these?" Lily demanded.

Dumbledore picked something up from his desk. It was a black and gold ring. "No, Lily, I know he did."

"That's-"

"Yes." Dumbledore said simply. "You see, after Voldemort attempted to return using Quirrell, my suspicions over his use of Horcruxes returned. I spent many months attempting to track this one down. I found it in the ruins of his childhood home."

"So as long as that Horcrux is still around," Remus clarified, "then Voldemort can still return?"

"Then hurry up and destroy the damn thing!" demanded James.

"It is not that simple." Dumbledore turned the ring to the side, revealing that it had, as a matter of fact, already been cracked. "Destroying a Horcrux is very tricky business. In fact, this particular effort very nearly killed me. If it wasn't for Severus's quick thinking-"

Dumbledore trailed off.

"But that's good, though," James said eagerly. "That means it's destroyed. Voldemort can never return."

"That's where things become even more difficult." Dumbledore said quietly. "I believe that Voldemort had more than one Horcrux."

"Is that even possible?" Sirius demanded. "Surviving that sort of thing-"

"Would be difficult, yes," Dumbledore agreed, "But not impossible. You are forgetting, Sirius, that Voldemort was a very powerful wizard, even in his youth."

"How many do you think he's made?" Lily ventured to ask.

"Seven."

"Seven?" gasped Lily.

"This is all pure speculation, of course," Dumbledore soothed, "but Voldemort was known to have a fascination with all things magical. Seven is, as you know, one of those most magically potent numbers in existence. However, if the Horcruxes are found and destroyed, Voldemort will be just as mortal as any other man."

"That's why we're here." James said. It wasn't a question.

"Why now?" asked Remus.

"Recent events have lead me to believe that Voldemort is once again beginning to regain his strength. If we wait too long, he might come back fully. Of course, I am not ordering you to do anything. If you were to help me, it would be nothing more than a favor."

"A favor you know we cannot refuse," Sirius said sharply, "considering Harriet's role in the matter."

Dumbledore said nothing.

"Do you even know what the other Horcruxes are?" asked Remus.

"This ring," he held up the ring, "Belonged to Riddle's father. It is my belief that objects such as these, ones that held some sort of personal value, would be used to make a Horcrux."

"You think Voldemort made a Horcrux out of his childhood teddy bear?" Sirius said.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Voldemort, however, did always feel as though Hogwarts were his second home. It is likely that objects related to the school's history would have held a special appeal to him. I have spent these many months searching for memories involving Voldemort and, thanks to meticulous research, have indeed come up with several objects that might be Horcruxes."

"What are they?"

"In the course of his lifetime, Voldemort managed to somehow obtain a cup once belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, along with a locket belonging to Slytherin himself."

"What about the other two Houses?" asked James.

"It is possible that Voldemort died before all of his Horcruxes could be completed. However, it might also be possible that a Horcrux has been made from an object that we have yet to consider."

"I could do some research," Remus said, already lost in the hundreds of books he had read over his lifetime. "I'm sure I read once about a lost artifact of Ravenclaw-"

"Feel free to use the Potter library," offered James.

"There might be some books in the Black homes and vaults, too," noted Sirius.

"Actually, Sirius," Dumbledore asked, "I believe there might be something far more important in those vaults."

"You think Voldemort might have put a Horcrux in Gringotts?" asked Sirius, eyebrows raised as he contemplated the possibility.

"I believe that Voldemort might have asked one of his followers to guard the Horcrux-whether or not he told them what it was, is a different question. Gringotts is one of the safest places in the Wizarding World. You, as the head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, have the ability to seize any Black holdings, including vaults. As much of your family were members of Voldemort's inner circle-"

"Right," agreed Sirius, not needing Dumbledore to finish. "I could start with the vaults already under the Black name, then move onto the Lestrange and Malfoy holdings."

"There might be something at one of the houses, too," noted James. He looked at his friend. "I could help you search them."

Sirius smiled in grateful relief. He was loathed to spend any more time in those houses than needed, so the fact that his friend was willing to help him comforted him immensely.

"Even if more of the Horcruxes are located, there is still the problem of destroying them. I was hoping, Lily, given your proficiency in Charms and Potions, that you might work with Severus to develop a method of safely destroying them. You worked well in your schooldays."

"I would be happy to," said Lily, smiling at her old friend. James glared at him for a moment, but quickly dropped the look when Lily scowled at him.

"If we can find those Horcruxes and destroy them," Dumbledore said quietly, "Voldemort will be able to finally die. Harriet might be spared the awful task that was set before her so many years ago."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Quidditch Pitch-November 15, 1992**

Harriet woke up that morning feeling incredibly well rested. The day before, she and Remus had been several more hours working on her patronus. Harriet felt as though she were making incredibly slow progress, but Remus assured her that he was doing well.

"You're parents couldn't have done better," he had praised, when she managed to create a bright cloud of light and repel the boggart Remus had found.

(As luck would have it, Harriet's boggart turned into a dementor, something Harriet had learned during one of their defence lessons).

This morning, though, was not the time to worry about Patronuses and boggarts. Now was the time to focus on Quidditch. Specifically, the Quidditch match today between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The first ever with Malfoy on the team. Considering their last encounter, Harriet was understandably excited to beat Malfoy today.

Hermione and Ron were also looking forward to the game. Even though there had been no other attacks, the atmosphere around the school had been understandably tense. The game would be a nice distraction. They bid Harriet luck and made their way towards the stands. That was when Hermione noticed something.

"Ron, does that look like Harriet's family?"

Ron frowned and squinted, trying to see through the lightly drizzling rain. Sure enough, it looked as though Harriet's parents and Sirius were trying to make their way to the Quidditch pitch. He nodded and Hermione tugged on his arm.

"Let's go say hello!" she ordered.

"Did you know they would be here?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Neither did Harriet, I think."

They made it to Harriet's family slightly out of breath. Hermione smiled and said, "Hello!"

Sirius started, the laughed. "Where did you come from, Hermione? Hello!"

"It's a pleasure to see you," Hermione said politely, nudging Ron, who nodded in agreement. "Are you here to see Harriet play?"

"We actually had some things to discuss with Remus," James said hesitantly.

"It  _just so happened_ to coincide with Harriet's game, then?" Hermione asked knowingly. James grinned sheepishly.

"Well, we've never seen Harriet fly in a match before," James admitted.

Ron frowned sympathetically. "Never?"

He had seen Harriet fly several times and always enjoyed it, even if he himself was stuck on the stands. His friend loved it so much and was  _so_ good at it, she made it great to watch and Ron wouldn't have been surprised if she went professional one day.

"No," Sirius sighed wistfully.

"Well then you are in for a treat!" Hermione cooed. "Why don't you come to sit with us?"

"We were just going to go sit with Remus-" Lily began.

"Why?" Ron frowned. "The view is much better from where the students sit and the teacher's booth is always crowded."

"We would love to have you," Hermione added, "And Hagrid would probably love to see you, too."

"We haven't seen Hagrid in a while," conceded James, letting Hermione pull him towards the stand. Sure enough, they found the large man squeezed among the other students. When he saw them, he grinned hugely.

"Lily! James! Sirius! I didn't know yeh'd be here!"

"We didn't really know either," Lily said, chuckling as she embraced him.

"Yeh here to see Harriet play," Hagrid nodded. "She'll be happy to know you're here."

"The game is starting!" Hermione squealed.

"You're excited," Ron noted. Hermione shrugged.

"Which one is Harriet?" Lily asked, squinting through the pouring rain.

"The smallest one," Ron and Hermione said simultaneously. Hagrid snorted as Lily was now able to locate her daughter with ease.

Up in the air, Harriet was having trouble locating the snitch. The rain made it difficult to see. Hermione had magicked her glasses to repel water, which helped, but the rain itself made it very dark. On the upside, Malfoy was having just as difficult a time, and Harriet had the added advantage of experience.

Harriet narrowly dodged a Bludger that had flow precariously close to her head.

"Close call, Harriet!" called George, hitting it out of the way. Harriet gripped her broom tighter and performed a complicated, sharp, half-turn maneuver to once again avoid the Bludger as it shot around like a boomerang back at her.

"That Bludger is chasing Harriet!" cried Lily, frantically tugging at her husband's sleeve. "Why is it doing that?"

"I don't know!" James said helplessly, watching as his daughter did her best to avoid the bludger. He winced as it whizzed particularly close to her head.

"I can stop it-" Sirius began pulling his wand out, but Lily stopped him.

"Don't you dare!" She chided. "Even a fully trained Auror could have a problem making a shot like this! You might hit Harriet!"

"At least the Bludger won't!" Ron said optimistically. Lily sniffled and looked at it. "It's no match for Harriet."

"That's right!" agreed Hermione, nudging Hagrid. "Harriet could outfly anything!"

"True," Hagrid said gruffly at Hermione's prodding. "See, look!"

Sure enough, they could barely make out a red blur flying through the storm, artfully dodging the Bludger. Harriet aimed directly at one of the walls of the stadium, flying directly at it as fast as she could. At the last minute, she jerked her broom out of the way.

The Bludger wasn't so lucky.

The sound of splintering wood made Lily flinch, but the rest of the stadium applauded. Harriet stopped flying for a moment, doing her best to catch her breath. All of the spinning had begun to make her a bit dizzy.

Floating in front of her, Malfoy laughed.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" he called. Harriet scowled at him, but tried not to answer. Focusing instead on finding the Snitch before the Bludger found her.

That was when Harriet saw it, glittering right by Malfoy's ear. She didn't think, instead she just lunged for it. Malfoy let out an indignant squeak, thinking that she was attacking him again. When he realized that she had seen the Snitch, he scowled and chased after her.

"That Bludger is still following her!" Sirius said, annoyed.

"That's been tampered with, that has!" Hagrid said angrily, jabbing his finger in the Bludger's general direction.

"Oh be careful, Harriet," Hermione warned, biting her fingers, finally letting some of her own apprehension show through.

Harriet had flown underneath the stadium, following the Snitch with sheer determination. She weaved-over, under, left, under again-through the wooden support beams. Behind her, she could hear the Bludger simply crashing through them. She vaguely wondered how much damage was being done and whether or not she would be blamed for it.

A sharp nudge to her ribs made her realize that Malfoy had finally caught up with her. She scowled and shoved him back. He was larger than she was, though, so when he turned his broom into her to force her off course, it worked.

Teeth set in determination, she crouched low to her broom and edged it faster to catch up with him. The Bludger, she suddenly realized, had disappeared. She didn't really like the sound of that so, when it showed up a moment later by crashing through the wall in front of them, Harriet was fully prepared to duck.

Malfoy wasn't.

He yelled in surprise as the Bludger caught the end of his broom, sending him flipping into the air, landing head first into the grass. He groaned and clutched his stomach a bit.

At this point, Harriet was flying well above the sight of the spectators, above the clouds, surrounded by the rain and the thunder and lightning. She could see the Snitch in front of her and almost  _feel_ the Bludger behind her.

_Take Harriet! Take Harriet and run!_

_No!_

Having heard those voices in her head so many times during her Patronus lessons with Remus, Harriet knew exactly where they were coming from, even though she wasn't too sure why the were on the Quidditch Pitch.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly found herself surrounded by Dementors. She pulled her broom sharply to the left, avoiding one.

_So cold._

Harriet dove, desperately trying to keep away from their open mouths. Every inch of her body was shaking from the cold, her fingers clumsily holding on to her broom.

With dogged determination, Harriet let go of the broom and reached for the Snitch, which she had somehow not lost sight of.

So close.

A Dementor flew into her path, and she veered sharply. Sharp pain in her right shoulder.

The Bludger.

She had lost track of it and it had hit her, hard. She was now holding onto the broom with one arm- now just her knees-

She was falling.

There was screaming.

"Harriet!" Lily cried.

In the teacher's stand, Dumbledore raised his hand. The skin around his finger was dry and black, as though he had suffered a bad burn and was slowly recovering. His voice rang out even in the clamor of the stadium.

" _Arresto Momentum!"_

Harriet's parents almost sighed with relief as Harriet floated gently to the ground. They could see Madam Pomfrey running onto the field and knew that they should leave her to her work. Sirius nudged his two friends and put his arms around the kid's shoulders to guide them.

"Let's head to the Hospital Wing," he said. "Madam Pomfrey will bring Harriet there in just a minute."

They group barely had time to pull back the sheets on the one of the beds when Madam Pomfrey entered, Harriet levitated gently next to her. Instead of her usual, cheerful, self, she was clearly angry.

At first, Lily guessed that it was because Dementors were allowed on the field, but then heard her mumbling something about Lockhart as she settled her daughter on the bed. That's when she noticed something else.

"Madam Pomfrey," she frowned, "What happened to Harriet's arm?"

"Ew," Ron said, when he realized what Harriet's mum had meant. Harriet's arm looked like a piece of soft rubber.

"That  _idiot_ Lockhart," said Remus said, striding into the room, his face thunder. Snape slid in behind him silently and shut the door, keeping out the Quidditch team eagerly wanting to see if their Seeker was okay.

"What about him?" James said distractedly, not tearing his eyes from his unconscious daughter's form.

"Harriet's arm was broken from the Bludger," Remus seethed. "That  _imbecile_ thought he could heal her and removed all the bones from her arm!"

"Well where is he now?" demanded Sirius.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Probably hiding from you in his office."

"What do you have to say about him now, Hermione?" Ron demanded.

"Everybody makes mistakes." Hermione sniffed. "Besides, Madam Pomfrey can fix her, can't you?"

"Of course I can," Madam Pomfrey. "She's fine, aside from her arm. Unfortunately, I'll have to keep her overnight. I can mend bones and a heartbeat, but growing them back-"

Madam Pomfrey huffed and went off to look for some Skele-Gro.

"Harriet won't be too happy about spending the night," Lily tutted.

"She won't be able to argue that she doesn't need it, though," Ron pointed out. "She looks awful."

Hermione scowled at him. "Let throw  _you_ from a broom hundreds of feet in the air and feed you to Dementors- see how  _you_ look!"

"Probably a right sight better than he normally does," muttered a voice from the bed. Everybody looked down to see a slightly disoriented Harriet looking up at them. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Somebody handed her glasses and she put them on single-handedly because one of her arms was actually feeling a bit odd.

She looked down at it and blinked.

"Lockhart really did it," she said in awe. "He made all of my bones disappear. I thought I was dreaming."

"Sadly not, love," her mum said ruefully. Harriet realized that her mother was here. She smiled gleefully and tried to wrap her good arm around her. Her mother laughed and hugged her, followed by the rest of her family and friends.

Snape, standing by the corner, just glared harder at her. She grinned cheekily at him.

"What are you two doing here?"

"We had to talk to Dumbledore about something," her father said uneasily. He smiled at her after, though. "We were excited to see you play, though! You flew  _brilliantly._ I can't begin to tell you how proud I am, Prongslette."

"We didn't win, though," Harriet said ruefully.

"But you didn't lose," Ron pointed out. "Malfoy didn't catch the Snitch either. They're holding a rematch soon."

"Nobody blames you, Harriet," Hermione said gently, "the Dementors aren't supposed to come onto the school grounds. Dumbledore was furious. He sent them off immediately."

"There's something else," Ron said worriedly. He shot a glance at her family and held out a bundled cloth. He opened it and Harriet blanched when she saw the shattered remains of her broom.

"It flew into the Whomping Willow after you fell," Ron said sadly. Harriet didn't say anything, but she her eyes began to water. She felt like such a baby crying over her broom, but it had been such a  _good_ broom.

"Oh, Harriet," soothed her mother, wrapping her in a gentle hug, making sure to be careful of her wounded arm.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Harriet asked sleepily.

"Harriet, we can't," her mother said apologetically. "We all have work to do tomorrow."

"But it's the weekend," Harriet protested.

"It's non-work related work," Sirius said weakly. Harriet was too knackered to be suspicious of him, but comforted herself in the fact that Hermione was more than suspicious enough for the both of them

With that thought in mind, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hospital Wing-November 16, 1992**

_They were seated in Slughorn's office, surrounded by half a dozen boys, all on lower seats than theirs._

_Who?_

_Professor Slughorn._

_They played with a gold and black ring on their finger as they asked Slughorn. "Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"_

_"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, winking at them. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."_

_She was Tom again._

_No, they had always been Tom._

_They smiled; the other boys laughed and cast them admiring looks._

_"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite —"_

_Why had they bought him pineapple?_

_Slughorn needs to answer their questions._

_Slughorn looked at the clock._

_"Good gracious, is it that time already?" said Slughorn, raising an eyebrow. "You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble."_

_Slughorn stood up from the armchair as the boys left. They waited until they were alone and watched as Slughorn put his empty glass away._

_Now was the time to ask._

_"Look sharp, Tom," Slughorn warned. "You don't to be caught out of bed late-"_

_"Yes sir," they said, "But I wanted to ask you something before I left."_

_"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…"_

_"Sir, I wondered what you know about Horcruxes?"_

_About what?_

_Slughorn didn't say anything. He tapped the desk for a moment, before finally clearing his throat._

_"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"_

_No._

_Not even close._

_"Not quite, sir," they said easily. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."_

_That was a lie._

_Was it?_

_Yes, they had understood._

_They just needed the reassurance._

_"Of course you wouldn't have," Slughorn said. "It's very dark stuff, Tom. Not the sort of thing you'd easily find in books at Hogwarts."_

_"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously —I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could—so I just thought I'd–"_

_They were careful._

_They had to casual and hesitant, but not overdone._

_Wheedling information from reluctant people was an art. One that they were particularly good at._

_"Well," Slughorn said, sounding pleased, "I suppose it can't hurt to tell you a bit. Just an overview, of course. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."_

_That's awful._

_No, it's brilliant._

_The excitement built within them._

_"You split your soul, you see," Slughorn continued, "And then hide a part of it in an object outside of the body. If your body is then ever destroyed or attacked, you cannot truly die, since a part of your soul lives on, unharmed and earthbound."_

_Yes, they already knew that. There was something more important that they needed to know._

_"That sort of existence, Tom," Slughorn shook his head. "Death would be preferable."_

_"But how do you split your soul?"_

_"Well," said Slughorn hesitantly, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature. As such, splitting requires an act of supreme evil. Murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion —"_

_No, they couldn't kill somebody._

_Why not? They had already done it._

_When?_

_They needed more information._

_"Encase? But how —?"_

_"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said Slughorn panicking. "Do I look like a killer-"_

_"No, sir, of course not," they said quickly._

_They needed him on their side._

_"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend…"_

_"Of course you didn't," Slughorn said after a moment. "I understand. It's natural to feel curiosity. Wizards of a certain caliber often do."_

_They were beyond a "certain caliber."_

_Far beyond it._

_Slughorn had no idea._

_"What I don't understand, though, Sir- I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Could you-hypothetically-split your soul more than once? Wouldn't it be more secure to have your soul in, say, seven pieces, since it's such a powerfully magical number-"_

_"Don't say things like that, Tom!" Slughorn gasped. "Isn't it bad enough to think of dividing the soul- but into seven pieces-"_

_Slughorn was looking at them regretfully._

_He was onto them_

_They didn't care._

_They were buzzing with excitement._

_"Please keep this quiet, Tom," he said after a moment. "It's a sensitive subject and banned at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is very fierce about it..."_

_"I won't say a word, sir," they said._

_They turned around and left, smiling the whole way._

Harriet woke up with a pair of wide eyes staring at her and a damp cloth held to her forehead. She sat up straight and instantly regretted it. Her arm was tingling and felt as though it were filled with dozens of sharp, wooden splinters. She fell back onto the pillow and groped for her glasses.

She put them on.

"Dobby!" she hissed. "What are you doing here?"

The elf looked almost exactly as Harriet remembered. His eyes were wide and bright in the darkness. Harriet could just see him wringing the damp cloth, getting a bit of water on the sheets.

"Harriet Potter didn't listen. She came back to school," sniffed Dobby. Harriet watched as he blew his nose loudly into the rag. Harriet really hoped he didn't try to wipe her forehead again. "Ah, miss, why didn't Harriet Potter go back home when she missed the train to school?"

Harriet lifted herself up on her good arm and glared at Dobby.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded. "And how did you know that Ron and I didn't catch the train? Unless-it was you! You stopped the barrier from letting us through, didn't you?"

"Indeed yes," said Dobby,

"Dobby is sorry, but Dobby hid and watched for Harriet Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" — he showed Harriet his hands, which were bandaged clumsily- "but Dobby didn't care, for he thought Harriet Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harriet Potter would get to school another way!"

Harriet didn't say anything, admittedly feeling just a bit guilty for the pathetic, little, house-elf.

"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harriet Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir!"

"You nearly got Ron and me expelled," she hissed angrily, all guilt forgotten. "You had better get out of here before my bones come back, Dobby, or I just might have to strangle you!"

"Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

Harriet didn't really know what to say to that. Instead, she watched as Dobby wiped his eyes on the ratty pillowcase he wore.

"Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?" Harriet asked sympathetically, recalling the time when she had been forced to wear Dudley's old hand-me-downs.

"This, miss ?" said Dobby, pulling at the outfit. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, miss. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

"I don't suppose you can tell me who your masters are, then?" Harriet asked ruefully, wishing she could help.

Dobby nodded, then said suddenly, "Harriet Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —"

"Your Bludger?" Harriet said, anger growing. "Are you mental? That thing almost killed me!"

"No! Not kill you! Never kill you!" Dobby denied. "Dobby only meant to get Harriet Potter sent home! He did not realize the Dementors would be at the field!"

"Are the Dementors what you were trying to warn me about earlier, Dobby?" Harriet asked curiously.

"The evil here at Hogwarts is far more dark than just the Dementors, Harriet Potter," said Dobby, eyes wide. "Here at Hogwarts, terrible things are about to happen and Harriet Potter must leave. History is repeating itself. The Chamber of Secrets will be open once more."

"You mean the Chamber has been opened before?" Harriet said eagerly, thinking back to her dream. "But who opened it? When?"

"Dobby cannot say!" Dobby squeaked, tugging desperately at his ears. Harriet shushed him, trying to calm him down.

"But Dobby, I am not a muggle-born. How can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"There are dark magics afoot, Harriet Potter," Dobby whimpered. "Miss Potter has no idea of the evil to come."

Dobby froze suddenly, straining his ears. Harriet heard it, too. Mumblings in the corridor. Dobby squeaked and left with a loud crack. Harriet had no time to protest. She slumped back into bed, but her eyes never left the dark doorway.

Dumbledore entered, carrying the end of something in his arms. McGonagall entered with the other end. Snape followed quietly. Together, the two professors lifted the object onto the bed and placed the covers over it.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," instructed Dumbledore. McGonagall left.

Snape turned to Dumbledore. "It is what you feared, Headmaster."

"I dare say it is, Severus," Dumbledore responded softly.

"Has he regained full strength, do you think?" Snape asked. Harriet strained to listen. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"No, not yet, things would be far worse if he had, but he is getting stronger. We must act quickly, now. Time is of the essence. Are you and Lily-"

"Yes," Snape answered. "We are making progress. Black has been working on gaining access to the Lestrange vaults, as well. There is a fair chance that he will find something in there."

"And Mr. Lupin?"

"He has already collected a large number of books from the Potter library. He is no doubt pouring over them now."

"Good, good," Dumbledore sighed. He stared down at the lump on the bed. "These are grave times, indeed. The signs were there for so long, but I missed them. Now, I fear it is too late. If he has somehow managed to open the Chamber once again, if he has infiltrated the school in any way-"

"Perhaps it is not him. Somebody else might be doing this."

"You do not believe that, Severus."

"No, headmaster, I do not." He was quiet for a moment. "What do we tell Miss Potter?"

"Nothing, Severus."

"This concerns her."

"It does indeed, but she is young and these matters are grave. She is far better off not knowing, for the time being."

"Surely you learnt your mistakes from last year," Snape sighed, looking exasperated. "She is as nosey as her father was at that age."

"She has no reason to be suspicious of anything going on. She knows no more than the rest of the school, and they are all blissfully in the dark."

"She can speak Parseltongue."

"I am aware."

"Does that not complicate things?"

"We do not know where the Chamber is, Severus. Neither does she. For now, she is as safe as any other."

Her Uncle Snape went to argue, but McGonagall returned with Madam Pomfrey.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"What was he doing out of bed?" fussed Madam Pomfrey.

"We think he might have been coming to visit Miss Potter."

Harriet felt her stomach clench. She slowly raised herself off the bed to get a better look. On the bed, Harriet could barely make out the still form of Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and frozen in a picture of fear. He held his camera out in front of him.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. Nobody said anything for a moment, just staring at Colin. Then Dumbledore reached forward and carefully wrangled the camera from Colin's grip.

"You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore didn't bother answering. Instead, he opened the camera gently. There was a jolt of steam and Harriet could smell burning plastic. answer. He opened the back of the camera.

"What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore gravely, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.

"But, Albus… surely… who?"

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore. Harriet recalled the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape. It seemed Dumbledore had a very good idea about who had been opening the Chamber.

Dumbledore continued. "The question is, how…"

And if Dumbledore didn't know the answer, Harriet realized, just how safe could the school be?


	20. What Secrets Are Held By Ancient Walls?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. I own nothing.

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Sirius Black, Gringotts-November 6, 1992**

When Sirius had been a little kid, his head had been filled with images of the exciting life of Aurors: catching the bad guys, saving the day, and the admiration from women that came with the job.

The first War had quickly washed those thoughts out of his head. They were replaced with grueling hours, dangerous duels, and, on occasion, letting the bad guy win. The attention he garnered from women was the one thing that stayed true to his fantasy, much to Sirius's immense relief.

But even those days were he was forced to spend long nights awake on nothing but coffee couldn't compare to this, Sirius decided.

Sitting in a stuffy office in Gringotts, dressed in his finest robes, Sirius was decidedly uncomfortable. His parents had spent a good portion of their time training him to eventually take up his position as the scion to the Black family. He hated it then and he hated it more now, especially since he had thought that he had left that life behind him the moment he ran away to James's house.

 _It's for the good of the wizarding world,_  Sirius repeated, like a mantra in his head.  _The wizarding world better be pretty damn appreciative for what I'm doing for them._

Obviously this mantra wasn't working.

 _Do it for Harriet. Do it to keep her safe._ Much better, decided Sirius, as he almost  _felt_ his resolve strengthening.

After a few more minutes of waiting, a stout goblin in a purple, velvet suit walked back into the room, carrying a stack of papers. Sirius eyed them with a growing sense of dread.

"Here is the complete inventory of the contents of the Black vaults. It would help, of course, if you knew what you were looking for-"

"Well, I don't. Not really." Sirius huffed, thinking to the items that Dumbledore had listed as possible Horcruxes. He could start with those, at the very least.

The goblin smirked. "Well, then, you'll have to go through all of these individually. If you have yet to find what you are looking for, I can draw up the paperwork to give you access to both the Lestrange and Malfoy vaults."

Sirius flexed his hand, already uncomfortably stiff. The goblin watched it gleefully. Sirius had a feeling that he was enjoying this just a bit too much.

"Thank-you," he said resignedly as the goblin placed the thick stack of papers on the desk in front of him. Sirius picked up the first page and squinted. The writing was impossible small.

"This might take a while."

"Oh, no rush," chuckled the goblin, exiting the room.

Sirius groaned and leant over the papers, beginning to scan the inventory for anything that even resembled a cup or a necklace.

_For Harriet. Do it for Harriet._

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-November 11, 1992**

"A dueling club?" Harriet read from the poster adorning the wall in the common room. "That could be fun."

"It could also be incredibly educational," Hermione said eagerly.

Ron eyed her warily, "Sure. I just want a chance to hex Malfoy, though."

"Ronald," tutted Hermione disapprovingly, "This Dueling Club is the perfect opportunity to practice our defense skills! Especially with all of these attacks! I think its an absolutely brilliant idea!"

"I never said it wasn't," sulked Ron.

"A Dueling Club will be great," Harriet said definitely, hoping to get her two friends to stop fighting. "As long as Lockhart isn't teaching it."

After dinner that evening, Ron, Harriet, and Hermione made their way to the Defense classroom. It was crowded and the three of them had to fight hard to find a place closer to the front of the classroom.

"It was just because I said something, wasn't it?" Harriet asked despairingly, staring at Lockhart, who was preening in front of a gaggle of giggling girls. Hermione scowled and brushed her hair back, obviously not choosing to say anything. She moved to Harriet's other side, putting Ron between them.

Harriet knew that she wasn't really angry, but rather just wanted to make a point. Harriet wished that she hadn't said anything to Hermione, though, because the moment Hermione moved, a Hufflepuff in her year took her place.

"Hello, I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley, Huffpuff," He said amicably. He held out his hand and Harriet went to shake it.

"Nice to meet you," she said sincerely. "I'm-"

"Oh no need," he laughed. "Even us muggle-borns know who  _you_ are!"

He didn't say it in an admiring or awe-filled tone. He said it laughingly, as though it was just a fact. Harriet laughed with him and turned to look at Lockhart, who was observing the proceedings from his platform.

Justin noticed her looking.

"That Lockhart is something, isn't he?"

Harriet snorted. "That's one way of saying it."

Justin interpreted her words the wrong way and nodded in agreement. "I couldn't believe half the things he's done when I read his books. My mum wasn't so sure about me being a wizard, but after she read Lockhart's books, she was really excited."

"At least Lockhart is good for one thing," Harriet muttered to Ron, who had been listening in the conversation.

Lockhart clapped loudly several times, bringing everybody's attention on him. "Hello! Hello! Everybody gather round, don't be shy! You can all see me, hear me, yes? Good. Now, welcome to the first official meeting of the Hogwarts Dueling Club!"

There was some scattered applause and excited mumbling. Lockhart beamed at them, his white teeth blinding her. "To help me teach you how to defend yourself as I have done on countless occasions, I have enlisted the help of an assistant."

Harriet almost burst out laughing as Snape climbed onto the platform. He looked as though there were no place he would hate to be more. He shot her a subtle glare when he heard her giggles, but was otherwise powerless to do anything about the situation. Taking advantage of his position, she stuck her tongue out at him when nobody was looking. Snape glared at her even more.

"Don't worry," Lockhart assured the crowd, "You'll still have your Potions Master by the time I'm done!"

"There goes that dream," Ron quipped to Harriet. As much as Harriet loved her Uncle Severus, she couldn't help but laugh at that. Maybe she'd mention it to him later. He'd probably love to know that his students hated him so much.

"In a proper wizarding duel," Lockhart began, "You must first begin by bowing to your opponent."

Lockhart did so, with a lot of exuberance and fluttering of his opulent robes. Snape, in stark contrast, simple gave a quick bow and jerk of the head. They then turned around and each took several steps to opposite ends of the platform.

Snape turned around and raised his wand in a defensive position. Lockhart did it as well, but his position looked a lot more theatrical to Harriet, his wand held lightly and in front of him. He cleared his throat.

"You will take the proper defensive position, as so." Lockhart said. He waved his wand and wiggled the fingers of his other hand to emphasize his position. Snape just stared back stoically. Harriet, knowing him as well as she did, knew that he was trying as hard as he possible could to not laugh.

"And then, on the count of three, you will try to disarm-and  _only_ disarm- your opponent." Lockhart warned. He nodded to Professor Snape, who hadn't moved. "One, two, three."

Like a shotgun, Snape fired his curse. Lockhart had no time to defend and his wand was sent flying backwards. Harriet giggled and realized only a second too late that it was a bit loud. Thankfully, Hermione's worried shrieks muffled it.

Lockhart straightened after a moment, looking considerably dazed. He picked up his wand as dignifiedly as he could. He cleared his throat and did his best to pretend that he hadn't just been humiliated.

"Yes, Professor Snape, thank you." He said insincerely. "Although, I would like to point out that it was very obvious what you were planning on doing-"

"Of course it was obvious," Harriet whispered to Ron, "He  _told_ Snape what to do."

Ron nodded in agreement.

"-and, if I had wanted to, I could have easily blocked you. As it is, I was hoping to show the students what a successful curse would look like."

"Perhaps," Snape said smoothly, "It would be prudent to teach the students first how to  _block_  a curse."

"Smashing idea!" Lockhart said, as enthusiastic as if he had thought of it himself. "Yes, let's have Harriet and, ah-"

"How about somebody from my own house," Snape said easily. Harriet had a feeling that Snape was about to enact his revenge on her for sticking her tongue out at him. She was right. "Draco Malfoy, perhaps?"

Harriet made a face as she clambered onto the platform, Draco following, having a much easier time for it since he was quite a bit taller. It was moment like these that Harriet very much regretted being short.

"Now," Lockhart said, pulling Harriet to the side, just as Snape did Malfoy. "Harriet, you will defend against Malfoy like so."

He then proceeded to make a very complicated wand movement and dropped his wand. Even if he hadn't, Harriet doubted that she would have been able to replicate the motion.

"Just do what I did," he assured her, once again bending down to pick up his wand. She looked at him in alarm.

"What, drop my wand?"

Before she could ask him to repeat the motion, though, he was shoving her towards the center of the platform and towards a smirking Malfoy. Harriet did the best she could not to show fear and lifted her wand up in acknowledgement, just as Lockhart instructed.

"Bow," Lockhart ordered. They did, never taking their eyes off of each other. When they straightened, Malfoy smiled a bit.

"Scared, Potter?"

"You wish."

With that they each turned and walked to their ends of the platform. Harriet took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. After that disastrous Quidditch game, she could not,  _would not,_ let herself be humiliated by Malfoy.

She caught the eyes of both Ron and Hermione and smiled at them before turning around to face Malfoy again.

"Wands at the ready," Lockhart commanded. Harriet brought her wand up much in the same manner as Snape did and planted her feet.

"Now, on my count, you will attempt to disarm-and  _only_ disarm- your opponent. You will also attempt to defend against them, if they manage to hit you. Am I clear?"

Harriet nodded almost imperceptibly.

"One, two, three-" Lockhart counted.

Harriet had long suspected that Malfoy did not know how to count. As it turned out, she was right. Malfoy fired on two, and not just to disarm her. Harriet didn't hear what spell he cast at her, but all she knew is that one moment she was doing her best to copy Lockhart's wand motions, and the next she was laying spread eagle on her back.

As the stars cleared from her eyes, Harriet blinked dazedly up at the ceiling.

_Oh, that's some very nice stonework._

Harriet scowled and lifted herself up. She was going to wipe Malfoy's triumphant smirk off of his face. Aiming her wand, Harriet hadn't even thought of a spell to use when a burst of magic shot from her wand and hit Malfoy square in the chest. He was sent flipping rapidly through the air, landing at Snape's feet.

Harriet glanced at her wand in surprise as Snape hauled Malfoy up. Malfoy took another few steps and Harriet readied herself for whatever spell he would cast next. Surprisingly, he didn't aim directly at her, but in front of her.

"Serpensortia!"

From his wand, emerged what Harriet guessed to be a cobra. Gasps could be heard from the audience as it drew itself up and hissed loudly. She took a few step backwards and did not make a sound. Harriet just watched the angry snake warily, just as tense and as anxious as everybody else.

"I'll take care of it!" Lockhart assured.

Harriet should have known that whatever Lockhart would do, it wouldn't be "taking care of it." The spell he shot at the snake did nothing but toss it up into air, ensuring that, after it had landed, it was even more angry than before.

It fixed its eyes on Justin and gave a low, meaningful hiss that even somebody who wasn't a Parselmouth would have no trouble understanding.

Looking back, Harriet could never say what had possessed her to do what she did next. Maybe it was worry for Justin, or just that brash impulsiveness that made her a Gryffindor. All she knew for sure was in that moment, as the snake crept infinitesimally closer to Justin, the words sprang uncalled from Harriet's lips.

" _No_!"

The snake stopped, hovering in front of Justin's face, obviously not sure about what to do. Harriet took a few steps forward.

 _"Leave him,"_ She ordered. The snake turned to her and eyed her curiously, obviously not sure what to make of her. She put all the weight she had into her voice and inflection.  _"Leave him."_

The snake took one last, long, considering look at Justin, and then turned back to Harriet. She shook her head "no." Finally, the snake bowed to her will and slumped to the floor, as docile as a lamb.

Snape quickly took control of the situation, vanishing the snake with a simple, " _Evanesco."_

Harriet wasn't sure what she expected the reaction around the classroom to be. At the time, she hadn't really been thinking about it. But now, surrounded by the muffled whispers and shocked gasps of her classmates, Harriet finally realized that what little time she had spent around other wizards and witches had skewed her perception to believe that they were all as open minded as her parents and Remus and Sirius- even Snape and Dumbledore had been accepting of her gift, once they had gotten over the shock.

She was wrong to think that all wizards were like that. Justin fixed her with an accusing glare, offset by his skin, which was milky white in terror. His voice shook a bit as he demanded, "What are you playing at?"

Harriet, not having an answer or any way to reassure him, did something completely out of character for her, the girl who had faced stares and whispers and her Uncle Snape and Quirrell and Voldemort himself all with a dogged determination and bravery that put older wizards to shame.

Harriet ran.

She ran as fast as she could, leaping off of the platform and through the small crowd, which parted easily for her, all of the students too afraid to touch the obviously "dark" witch. Harriet didn't really know where she was headed-somewhere, anywhere. She would have kept running all the way home if she had the chance.

As it happened, she didn't. Ron and Hermione, now well versed in the art of keeping up with their notoriously quick and unpredictable friend, easily caught up with her. One of them (Harriet couldn't see which, but later would learn that it was Hermione) grabbed her by the back of her Robe and tugged her into an empty classroom.

Ron shut the door behind them. The two of them moved to stand in front of Harriet, between her and the door, effectively trapping her.

She nodded in acceptance and prepared herself for the onslaught that she knew would follow. "Alright, you've got me. Let's hear it."

"Harriet," Ron stated useless, "You're a Parselmouth!"

"Yeah," Harriet nodded. "I know."

"Well of course you know," Hermione said patiently, "You've got a pet snake, for Merlin's sake. Of  _course_ you know. We were just wondering why you decided to reveal it in the middle of a crowded classroom."

"If I hadn't told that snake to back off of Justin-" Harriet began, annoyed. Hermione instantly went to soothe her irked friend.

"That's what you did!" Ron said, sounding very surprised. "I thought you were egging it on or something!"

"Do you really think that I would do that?" Harriet asked, obviously hurt by her friend's accusation. Was the fear of Parselmouths so great that her friends, the two people she thought knew her better than almost anybody else, would begin to suspect her of sending a snake to attack another student?

"Of we don't, Harriet, but it doesn't matter," Hermione explained. "To everybody there, all they heard was you speaking Parseltongue and then the snake moving closer to Justin. Everybody else will think-"

"So you don't think I would do something like that?" Harriet interrupted.

Ron gave her a look implying that he thought she was slightly insane. It was a look she received from him often. "Of course not."

"So you aren't angry, then?" Harriet demanded. "Because I'm a Parselmouth, I mean?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped. She bit her lip. "I have to admit, we are a bit hurt that you didn't tell us sooner- I mean, I am."

Ron's expression proved that he, too, had been hurt by Harriet's lack of trust. She looked sheepishly at them both.

"When we first met, I didn't tell you because I didn't really know you yet," Harriet began. Both Ron and Hermione nodded in concession to her point. "Then, as time went on, and we got to know each other better, things just kept coming up: Quirrell, the three-headed dog, the dragon. By the time things had died down, we were so close I was worried that you'd be mad at me because I didn't tell you sooner."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "So, what? You were just going to go the rest of your life without telling us?"

"No, I was waiting for an opportunity like today's to show itself," Harriet scowled, "Where I could reveal myself in front of  _everybody_ and mark myself as a Voldemort" -flinch- "reincarnate or something."

"Well it worked," Ron offered, trying to lighten the tension. His joke fell flat.

"I'm sure everybody will forget this, Harriet," Hermione said. "It might take some time, things being what they are with the Heir of Slytherin, but it will happen."

"There is no way you're the Heir of Slytherin," Ron added.

"Slytherin was alive thousands of years ago," Harriet frowned. "For all we know, I could be."

"But the Potters are a fairly pureblood family," Hermione argued. "Surely, you can trace your bloodline back-"

"I don't know if we can trace it that far," Harriet denied. "I can check over break, I suppose. There's bound to be something in the library. I haven't been there in ages. It'll give me something to do, I guess."

"What about homework?" Hermione asked, as the three finally began to make their way towards the common room. Harriet and Ron both scoffed.

"Oh," Harriet paused and reached out to Hermione's shoulder, noticing something on it. She brushed it off.

"You had a bug," she explained by way of explanation. Hermione shrugged, uncaring, but Ron looked a bit sick. Harriet hastened to reassure him that, "It wasn't a spider, Ron. Just a beetle or something."

"Oh, good," Ron said in relief as they stepped through the portrait. "Beetles I can handle, but not spiders."

"Technically, Ronald," Hermione began primly, in full lecturing mode, "A spider is an arachnid, not a bug. You can tell the difference because..."

Ron and Harriet exchanged amused looks behind Hermione's back as they settled down on the couch. She continued talking, unaware that her two friends were no longer paying any attention to her.

They spent the remainder of the day debating whether or not spiders were  _really_ bugs ("They're bug like!" Harriet argued) and working on homework, jokingly throwing wadded balls of paper at each other.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-November 12, 1992**

_They walked as silently as they could, although there was nobody around. It was imperative that they were not seen. They approached the threshold of an old house and stopped for a moment, admiring their reflection in the solitary, dusty, window-tall, dark-haired, and handsome._

_Enough._

_They needed to do this and they needed to do it quickly_

_Do what?_

_Oh, you know._

_They stepped into the hovel, the air dank and cold, not much warmer than outside. There was a small fire going, but it did little to ward off the chill. There was a man, old and tired looking, sagging in arm chair._

_They waited for him to notice them._

_He did and they were not disappointed. He staggered upright, clutching hold of the side of the chair, preventing him from crumpling to the ground. The old man almost tripped over the beer bottles littering the ground._

_Who was he?_

_Morfin._

_Who?_

_..._

_What did they need from him?_

_..._

_"You!" he bellowed, picking up his wand and a knife. "YOU!"_

_That man was a wizard?_

_Only by mere technicality. He's a disgrace to our kind._

_Do we know him?_

_Only by name._

_The wizard in question lunged towards them, but they easily sidestepped him. He was sent crashing to the floor. They watched as he struggled to stand up again._

_"Stop," they said simply._

_But not in English._

_They spoke in Parseltongue, a language as familiar to them as though they had been speaking it all their lives._

_But we have been-_

_"You speak it?" the old man interrupted their train of thought. There was a long silence where they said nothing, the door slamming shut behind them, as a result of the heavy wind._

_"Yes, I speak it," they intoned. They watched the old man gape at them, eyes wide. How disgusting that a wizard would ever let himself fall so low._

_Let alone_ _him_ _of all people. They were ashamed._

_Why were they ashamed? Why is he so special?_

_He has something we need._

_What?_

_Information._

_Information?_

_About our family._

_"Where is Marvolo?" they asked. The old man looked surprised at the question, although it was hard to tell from the expression on his face. It could be seen in tenseness in his shoulders, or the white knuckled grip on his knife._

_"Dead," he said after a moment. "Died years ago, didn't he?"_

_That wasn't right._

_"Who are you then?"_

_"I'm Morfin, ain't I?" He didn't seem too sure of the fact._

_"Marvolo's son?" they clarified._

_"Course I am, but you-you!"_

_He straightened and pushed his hair out of his eyes. They watched his right hand sharply, catching sight of a black-stoned ring on his right hand. Morfin attempted to get a better look at Riddle._

_"You look like that Muggle," he said finally, whispering. "You look mighty like that Muggle."_

_What Muggle?_

_Wait, what? Their mother was a Muggle. She had to be. She just had to..._

_"What Muggle?" they demanded quickly._

_"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way," said Morfin, gibbering away almost incomprehensibly. He he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. "You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…"_

_They swayed, understanding dawning on them like a freight train. Their mother was not the Muggle. Their father was. Their mother had been a witch, but she had left herself die. More importantly, she had let herself die and left them to that dodgy old orphanage, rotting away as though they were nothing._

_Morfin added, almost as an afterthought, obviously not noticing the conflict written all over their face, "He came back, see."_

_They didn't say anything for a moment, letting their eyes drift to the ring. Then back up again to Morfin's face._

_"Riddle came back?"_

_It was important._

_They had to know._

_"Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!" said Morfin, stamping on the ground where he still sat with his hands and feet like an errant toddler. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off., where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"_

_They didn't know. Not yet. But they would find out. Of course they would. It was only a matter of time. Nevertheless, Morfin did not need to know this._

_They didn't answer. They just watched cooly as Morfin got himself more worked up than ever before._

_"Dishonored us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit… It's over…"_

_Yes. It's over._

_Unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Morfin's candle, the lamp, the fire, everything. Even the air, it seemed, had disappeared._

_Morfin's scream pierced the darkness, but, eventually, even that faded into nothing._

Harriet sat up in bed like a shot, breathing heavily, choking on a scream. She held her breath for a moment, worried that somebody may have heard, but there was no sign that they had. Her dorm mates were all snoring peacefully.

She raised a shaking hand up to touch her scar. It was burning once again. She didn't understand it and, at this rate, she doubted she ever would. Hermione wouldn't believe her about her dreams, and neither would Ron. Harriet was still hesitant about going to an adult. They would no doubt be skeptical, too.

Maybe Dumbledore-

No. He might have given her the benefit of the doubt, but there was no reason to bother him about a nightmare. He had far more important things to do.

Harriet tried to calm herself, taking several deep breaths. What did she know so far about Riddle? He was real, he had to be. Her dreams were far too detailed for there to be any other explanation.

He had a Muggle father and a mother who was a witch. They had died and left him at an apparently decrepit orphanage. He was a wizard and had, at some point or another, gone to Hogwarts. From what she could remember from her dreams, he had been rather popular, but Harriet had never heard of him, and she doubted that the teachers would remember one student out of thousands. He had an interest in Dark Magic (Horcruxes, in particular, it seemed, although Harriet didn't know much about them other than what she had heard) and he could speak Parseltongue. It seemed as though he had killed that man- his uncle? Because of the ring. Or maybe it was because he didn't want to be seen. He also knew something about the attacks at Hogwarts. But what-?

The strangest thing, however, was the feeling of the dreams themselves. She wasn't watching the dream from an outside perspective. She and Riddle had almost been the same person.

And  _that_ had been the scariest part of all.

Because she and Riddle didn't seem that different. And if Riddle was as dark as he seemed to be, did that mean that she, too, would-

No.

No she wouldn't. Right? Never mind the fact that she could talk to snakes or that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin. There was no guarantee. And, on a similar note, there was no guarantee that Riddle had done those things either! It could have been just curiosity asking about the Horcruxes and maybe what happened with Morfin was just her imagination getting the better of her.

Harriet was deluding herself, but she didn't care. The dark hours of the (very) early morning made everything more sinister. If she even wanted to  _think_ about Riddle and her dreams, she had to do it during the day.

Still, there was no chance of her getting to sleep now. She huffed in annoyance and rolled over to her side. She didn't have her glasses on, so everything was just a blur, but she could make out the blurred form of her bedside table. On it, she saw a flash of yellowed parchment and suddenly remembered the Mardauder's Map.

Harriet hadn't had much of a chance to look at it, so deciding that she had nothing better to do, she slipped on her glasses and picked it up. She sat up straighter in bed and peered around her curtains, checking, once again, that everybody was still sound asleep.

Satisfied, she grabbed her wand and waved it over the parchment. "I solemnly swear that  _I_ am up to no good."

Sure enough, the parchment slowly revealed itself, showing off every passage in the school and every person in it. It must have taken quite a bit of magic to create this.

 _No doubt Uncle Moony did most of the work,_ she snickered to herself.

She watched half-interested as the figures on the map moved. Most were still, the majority of the occupants in the castle asleep. Although Dumbledore look to be pacing in his office. Harriet had a feeling he did that a lot.

Filch, too, was awake, no doubt patrolling the corridors.

And Snape, oddly enough, seemed to be hard at work in his Potions lab. That was surprising. He always warned her about working with a clear head and an alert mind-not in the middle of the night while half asleep.

What could be so-

Wait just a tick!

There, in the corner, heading towards the corridor where Mrs. Norris had been found, was a name that Harriet had never expected to see.

_Peter Pettigrew._

Harriet blinked. That couldn't be right, could it?

Hopping off from the bed, she quietly put on her slippers. She was halfway out the door when she paused.

Her parents had warned her multiple times about sneaking about the castle. Maybe it would be better for her to find somebody and show them. Uncle Severus was still up. If she explained the situation to him, he might understand why she was so anxious enough as to break Hogwarts's curfew.

Mind made up, Harriet slipped out of the common room and into the corridor. Using  _Lumos_ to light her wand, she kept one out for Pettigrew and another eye on the Map. She had to be careful. At the rate they were going, they were going to run right into each other.

He was heading towards her-

Filch was coming around the corner-

Pettigrew was right there!

But where? She couldn't see him!

Filch was here-

She waved her wand over the map, hiding the text, and then extinguished the light of her wand almost immediately after.

It was too late, though.

Harriet flinched as Filch flashed a bright light in her eyes. She couldn't make out his expression, but she had a feeling he was smirking triumphantly. If Mrs. Norris hadn't been Petrified, Harriet would have expected to hear her triumphant mew near her feet somewhere.

"Wandering the hallways at night," he tutted, "That's the second time I've caught you doing this, Potter. Making a habit of it, are we?"

Harriet waited to give her eyes a chance to adjust to the light. Once they had done so, she took several steps back, moving away from Filch.

"Well, go on then. What's your excuse this time?" He was obviously waiting for an explanation, although she didn't really know why. He'd probably give her detention either way.

"I was," she paused trying to think of a  _somewhat_ reasonable explanation. "I was looking for my Uncle Remus."

"Were you now, Harriet?" came a curious voice from behind Filch. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her uncle. No doubt he wouldn't be too happy about her being out of bed, either, but at least he would give her a chance to explain herself.

"Yes," Harriet said quickly.

"Any particular reason why?" Remus asked, eyeing her carefully. She shifted uncomfortably, knowing that if anybody could tell when she was lying, it was her Uncle Moony. Harriet thought for a moment.

"I had a nightmare." She said finally. Harriet resisted the urge to slap herself.  _Out of all the ridiculous excuses-_

 _"_ Well, Argus, there you have it." Remus said, with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't believe it," Filch denied. "Not considering  _her_ father. The trouble you four used to get into- the number of times I found you lot out of bed-"

"Yes, yes," Remus chuckled. "We gave you quite a hard time, didn't we? But Harriet is clearly on her own, so I doubt she's pulling a prank. No, I think she is being truthful. I'll take her to my office, give her some hot chocolate, and then send her straight to bed. Tomorrow, I'll talk to Professor McGonagall and discuss a proper punishment."

Filch may have been at the school for years, but even he did not have the authority to usurp a professor. He gave a disgruntled nod and hobbled off, eager to find any more rule-breakers wandering through the halls.

Remus, holding her firmly by the shoulder, lead her down the hall and, eventually, into his room at Hogwarts. It was small and cozy and filled to the brim with books of all sorts.

It suited Remus perfectly.

Harriet looked around for a moment, and then finally took a seat in a chair in the corner. Remus watched her patiently, before finally taking a seat himself.

"Well?" he said finally. "Would you mind telling me what exactly you were doing out at this time of night?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I  _really_ did have an odd dream?" Harriet asked sheepishly.

"Yes, I dare say I would," Remus said, looking at her speculatively. He shook his head. "However, I sincerely doubt that you would risk detention on something as silly as that. So, what's the real reason? And it better be a good one, with all these attacks going on! It's dangerous in the halls these days!"

He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Honestly, Harriet! I know your father and Sirius and I are hardly the ones to be lecturing you about breaking curfew-Merlin knows we did it enough times ourselves- but even we wouldn't be as stupid enough to endanger our lives on a whim."

Harriet nodded in acceptance of his rebuking. "I know, but I wasn't doing it on a whim, I promise! I was looking for you or Snape. It was important!"

"What could possibly be that important?" Remus tutted.

"I think Peter Pettigrew is inside the castle," Harriet said finally.

Remus stood from his seat, his expression disbelieving. Harriet didn't blame him. If she hadn't seen it for herself, she wouldn't have believed her either.

"That's impossible," Remus said succinctly.

"I know," Harriet shrugged, "But it's true."

"How do you know?" Remus demanded. "Did you see him?"

Harriet shook her head, but then nodded, and then just shrugged again. "No- I mean, yes- Sort of."

Remus nodded for her to continue.

"Like I said, I had an odd dream and it woke me up. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I took out the Marauder's Map and was looking at it-"

"You found the Map?" he asked, suddenly forgetting for a moment the true gravity of the situation. " Where did you find it?"

"The twins found it," Harriet corrected. "Fred and George, that is. They found it in Filch's office first year. When they heard the Howler that Dad sent, they put two and two together and realized who the Marauders were, so they gave to me."

"That would explain why approached me that day and began bowing," Remus said smirking. "And here I thought they actually respected my abilities as a teacher."

Harriet shook her head. "No, I doubt it. Although you're a brilliant teacher, Uncle Moony- really, you are-"

"Stop sucking up, Harriet." Remus warned firmly, although his lips twitched a bit. "You'll still probably get detention for this. Now go on. What happened next?"

"Well, I saw Peter's name on the Map," Harriet explained. "So I got up and went to find Snape. It looked liked he was still up."

"Show me," Remus demanded.

Together, the two of them spread the Map out on the table. Remus waved his wand over it and said the password, smiling as he did so. He laughed softly as he watched the Map reveal itself.

"Oh, I remember this thing. We worked on it for months- well, I say 'we'. It was mostly me. Your father and Sirius helped a bit, but they always got too distracted with- well, things. But I digress. Now, where did you see Pettigrew?"

Harriet pointed. "He was heading towards the corridor where Mrs. Norris was found."

"Well he's not there now," Remus muttered. The two of them scanned the Map, but couldn't find his name anywhere. Remus looked at her skeptically.

"Are you sure you saw his name?"

"Yes!" Harriet said assuredly.

"You weren't still dreaming?"

"My dream had nothing to do with Pettigrew," Harriet denied. "It had to do with this boy-"

"Ah," Remus laughed. "It was one of  _those_ then?"

"No!" Harriet squeaked. "I didn't mean it like  _that,_ Uncle Moony!"

"Of course not," Remus laughed, looking back down at the Map. Obviously he didn't believe her.

He frowned again. They couldn't see Pettigrew anywhere, but Harriet was  _sure_ that Pettigrew's name had been on the Map and, knowing that Remus had done most of the work, there was no way it could have been an accident. He had always been incredibly meticulous. He either had to admit that he made a mistake with the Map or agree that Harriet had been right.

"I'm going to keep this here," Remus said finally. "I'll watch it for the next few days and see if Pettigrew makes a reappearance, alright. I'll let the Headmaster know, as well. In the meantime, you need to get to bed."

"Yes, Uncle Moony," Harriet said softly. She bit her lip. "And thanks."

"Hm?" Remus asked, distracted by the Map. "For what?"

"For listening to me," she said simply, and the walked out the door and back to her dorm. Remus watched for a moment, making sure that she wasn't taking any detours, and, once he was sure that she was going straight back to her room, he smiled, chuckling at the fact that she was taking a less commonly used route to avoid Filch.

He went to conceal the map, when he noticed something. Frowning, he leant closer. But that couldn't be right. There, walking right behind Harriet, was somebody who shouldn't have been in the castle at all, let alone at night, tailing a student. Harriet not once stopped, so Remus had to assume that Harriet had not seen her.

Remus grabbed the Map and tucked it into his robes, racing after Harriet.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridors-November 12, 1992**

Harriet was now exhausted. Between her dream, her conversation with Remus, almost being caught by Filch, and now the cool air of the hallway, she was distinctly uncomfortable. She just wanted to go back to sleep for a few hours before classes. She had Quidditch practice as well, so she would most likely be dead on her feet tomorrow.

There was, of course, a shorter path to the common room, but Harriet was not in the mood to meet Filch again, so she took a longer way. She paused, as she thought, for just a brief moment, she heard a slow, soft, voice.

_Come to me._

Harriet took a deep breath. It was just her imagination. It wasn't real. She kept on walking, ignoring the impulse to go and track it down.

_Come to me._

Well, it  _sounded_ real. In fact, it sounded familiar. If she didn't know better, she would have said that it was-

Harriet turned a corner and stopped short. Her breath began coming in short gasps as shook took in what she saw. Justin stood in front of her, frozen in place, obviously petrified. Next to him, Nearly-Headless-Nick floated as well, frozen as well.

She heard footsteps behind her and saw Remus round the corner, seeming to scan the area around him for something.

"Harriet did you see somebody-" He stopped short when he saw Justin and Nick. He balked at her.

"Remus, I swear! It wasn't me!" Harriet said pleadingly. "I was just going back to the common room-"

"I know," he said finally, wandering over to Justin, checking to make sure that he was alright, other than being Petrified. He then turned to Nick and frowned.

"What could do that to a ghost?" Harriet asked. Remus shook his head slowly.

"I don't know."

Harriet frowned again. "Why were you coming to get me Remus?"

"I thought I saw-" Remus stopped and looked around him, then shook his head. "It's not important anymore."

"What do I do now, Remus?" Harriet asked quietly. He looked at her for a moment and then pulled her into a hug.

"Get to bed. Get some sleep. I need to alert the staff. No doubt Dumbledore will want to talk to you tomorrow."

"But I didn't do anything," Harriet said softly. Remus smiled tightly at her.

"I know and I'm sure he does, too. That doesn't change things. You've been at the center of these attacks three times already. I know you have a tendency to go looking for trouble, but this is getting too close for comfort."

"I don't go looking for trouble," Harriet defended. She eyed Nick and Justin hesitantly. "Trouble usually finds me."

"Well," Remus said after a moment, leading her back to the common rooms"Let's hope that whatever is causing this trouble doesn't find you anytime soon."

Harriet got one last look at the two, petrified figures, looks of sheer terror were frozen on their faces. Harriet felt a shiver run down her spine as she wondered what could have been that terrifying and what (or who) could have done this.

She recalled Remus's words.

_Let's hope._


	21. Fact vs. Fiction

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**~Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridors-November 18, 1992**

That morning, Harriet got the surprise of her life. Never mind the fact that word of the attack on Justin and Nick had spread (earning her a plethora of glares throughout the morning). No, the surprise came when she opened the Daily Prophet and found the words:

_Harriet Potter: Gryffindor Golden Girl or Heir of Slytherin? You decide!_

The article went on to detail all the evidence of her being behind the attacks, from her being a Parselmouth to the events with the Stone last year. Even her discovery of Nick and Justin last night had been mentioned.

" _How_ did they figure that out?" Harriet demanded as Ron and Hermione ushered her out of the Great Hall. "I mean, I only found Nick and Justin a few hours ago!"

"Oh, I don't know, Harriet." Hermione fretted, the doors of the Great Hall shutting behind them. Both Ron and Hermione had already heard about Harriet's discovery last night, thanks to her ingenious use of the mirrors. They had been shocked and surprised, but also incredibly worried about Pettrigrew in the castle and the voice she had heard.

"Do you think they might be connected?" Hermione asked about Pettigrew's presence and the attacks on the school. Harriet shrugged.

"I don't know. How could they be? Even if Pettigrew  _is_ inside the castle, he's hardly 'Heir' material, you know? He's a Muggleborn."

"There goes that theory," Ron scowled. He brightened. "But maybe Pettigrew is the voice you heard!"

"Also doesn't make sense," Harriet denied. "Pettigrew's name was nowhere near where I found Nick and Justin. He was headed towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"Obviously he didn't get there," Ron said with a role of his eyes. "If he had, we would have heard Myrtle screaming about it a long time ago."

"That's rude, Ronald," Hermione scowled. "Still, maybe we should give it a look."

Harriet bit her lip. "We have a bit of time before class starts-"

Ron and Hermione followed her as she walked rapidly down the hall.

* * *

**James Potter and Dumbledore, Dumbledore's Office-November 18, 1992**

James shakily shoved water into Dumbledore's hands but, when the older man couldn't hold onto it, James lifted it and let Dumbledore sip slowly. Neither said anything for several minutes, Dumbledore drinking and James refilling.

Finally, Dumbledore said, "That's enough for now, m'boy."

James put the cup down on the desk and helped Dumbledore move to one of the couches. They both sat down gratefully, tired.

"Before we go any further, I feel that I should say thank-you. If not for your quick thinking, I would have been dead."

"Don't-" James muttered. "Just- don't. You're family. And we got what we needed, at any rate."

Dumbledore didn't respond to this. Instead, he reached into one of the deep pockets of his forest-green robe and pulled out a small, delicate locket. It looked like it was nothing special, but Dumbledore knew it was so much more. He fingered it. How much evil could be held in such a little thing?

"That was not the only thing in the cave," James said. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I grabbed this on the way out."

Dumbledore motioned for him to unfold it. When he did, a simply message was written down in plain, black ink.

" _To he Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B."_

"Even after all that, it wasn't a horcrux," James huffed. "And, with no way of knowing whether or not the  _real_ horcrux was destroyed, we'll have to find it."

"R.A.B," Dumbledore rolled the letters around in his mouth, trying to remember where he had heard those initials before.

"You- you don't think they could mean 'Regulus,' do they?" James asked hesitantly. "As in, Sirius's younger brother?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said eyes brightening. "It might explain why Voldemort had him killed."

James nodded. "I'll talk to Sirius about it. He won't be happy. First he spent all that time scouring the vaults, now he'll have to go digging around his brother's old things. I can help him. Might make him feel better if somebody is there."

Dumbledore simply nodded quietly. "Very well."

The headmaster stood up, bringing the piece of paper, and he placed it in the small ceramic plate on his desk- the same one that held the broken ring. Next to it, sat the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, which Sirius had finally managed to track down after hours of pouring over the inventory of the Black Vaults. It had been found in his cousin Bellatrix's vault, not that he was surprised.

"Two down," James deadpanned, "Five to go."

The door suddenly burst open and McGonagall ran in. She was more disarrayed than James had ever seen her. Her robes wrinkled, hair flying about, and a distraught expression was painted all over her face.

"Headmaster, Headmaster," She panted, bracing herself against a chair. "Thank-goodness you're back! There's been another attack!"

James's eyes widened and Dumbledore straightened. He looked much better now, if not a bit pale, and he looked much more somber.

"Who?" James asked, in full Auror mode.

"Two this time," McGonagall said, calming down a bit. "A Hufflepuff by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick."

"A ghost?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully. "And how are they?"

"Both will be fine, Madam Pomfrey assures, once the draught has been prepared." McGonagall hesitated, her eyes falling to James. They flicked away quickly, but but he noticed and felt a tight ball of worry pool in his stomach.

"Is there something else, Professor?" Dumbledore asked knowingly. He had noticed, too.

"It's Potter," she admitted. "Harriet, that is."

James almost immediately jumped down her throat. "Is she alright? What happened? Has she been attacked-"

"She's perfectly fine," McGonagall soothed. "She was, however, the one who found the victims. Again."

"You can't be suggesting-" James began

"Don't be ridiculous," McGonagall said with sigh. "However it's all very odd. She said that she also saw Pettigrew in the castle-"

"Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked. "How?"

"Both she and Mr. Lupin were quite vague, but seemed to be under the impression that he was in Hogwarts last night," McGonagall said with pursed lips. "Naturally, the castle has been searched, but he has not been found- either as a human or as a rat."

"Very well," Dumbledore said softly. "I'll talk to her."

"I should-" James began.

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey and have her look you over," Dumbledore said firmly. James obviously was going to protest, so Dumbledore amended his request. "At least go see Mr. Lupin and have him look you over. If he says you're fine, then I will take him at his word and let the matter drop. You'll be able to inquire into Harriet's well being, too."

James nodded and left the office, walking a bit more slowly, their expedition in the cave obviously having taken more out of him than he would dare admit.

"Also, Headmaster," McGonagall said once James had left, "There is somebody from the Ministry here to see you. I left them in my office."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "I will go see what the matter is about. Please summon Harriet to my office."

McGonagall left to go find Harriet.

* * *

**James Potter and Remus Lupin, Lupin's Office, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992**

James stared forlornly down at the newspaper in his lap, Remus bustling about, examining him and making tea.

James didn't know why, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the paper. More specifically, he couldn't stop reading the article Rita Skeeter had written about Harriet.

He should stop.

He really should.

Each line was making him grow angrier and angrier. But he  _couldn't_ stop. He kept reading and rereading and re-rereading-

Remus sat down after a few minutes with a decisive nod.

"You'll be fine. You've drained your magical Core, which is saying something of a wizard of your caliber, but some rest and food should clear that up. James? James are you even listening to me?"

"Yes. No. Sorry, what was the question?" James looked up from  _The Daily Prophet_ and met Remus's slightly annoyed expression with a guilty one of his own. He muttered a sorry and gestured to the paper. "I just don't know what to think of this or what to do with it."

"I don't know," Remus said with a frown. "Is there anything you can do to make her stop? Harriet is a minor, after all."

"Not really," James scowled. "We can talk to her and tell her to lay off of Harriet, but that won't do much good. I've worked with Skeeter before- well, against her. If you tell her to stop, all it does to make her dig that much deeper."

"You can't- I don't know- give her a warning?"

"If I talk to her, or another Auror does, tomorrow the paper will be filled with nonsense about the Ministry trying to curb freedom of speech."

"But it's illegal to use a minor's name in the profit without parental consent," Remus pointed out frustratedly.

James ran a hand through his hair.

"I know that and you know that, but Skeeter doesn't seem to know that." James huffed. "Besides, she'll just work around it. An article will show up on the front page and it will be filled with more lies about Harriet, this time without naming names. There isn't any winning. If she was getting her information illegally, then we could lock her away, but there isn't any proof-"

"Trespassing on Hogwarts grounds is illegal," Remus pointed out.

James shook his head. "We don't know if that's what she did."

"Well," Remus said hesitantly, placing a cup of tea down for James. "I might have seen her name on the Map last night-"

James spit out his tea. "You what? Did you tell Albus?"

"No," Remus admitted shamefully. "I went to check it out, but didn't see anybody there. I thought the Map was just acting up again."

"Again?" James raised an eyebrow and smiled a bit. "When did that happen last? And are you doubting your charms work?"

"Harriet claims to have seen Pettigrew on the Map last night," Remus began, but James interrupted him.

"Dumbledore mentioned something about that," James confirmed. "Did you see him?"

Remus shook his head. "When Harriet showed it to me, he was nowhere in the castle. And yes-" Remus put his hand up to stop James's protests. "I looked everywhere."

"The Map shows every part of the castle, though," James argued. "Are you sure Harriet wasn't imagining things? What was she doing before?"

"She said she had an odd dream and that's why she woke up. I asked if her dream might have made her confused, but she said that her dream was about a boy-"

"Wait, what?" James demanded sharply. "What boy? Who is he? Do I know him-"

"James," Remus snorted. "I don't think that was quite what she meant."

"Oh," James said, looking obviously relieved. "That's good. She's far too young to date. I've been thinking about talking to Lily and having it so that Harriet can't date until after she's married. What do you think?"

"I think you're delusional," Remus retorted. "With Lily's eyes? You'll be beating boys away with a stick."

James grimaced. "Back to more pleasant topics, if you don't mind."

"You mean the fact that there might be an ex-Death Eater running about the castle?" Remus asked with a smirk.

James nodded. "Yes. That would do it."

"I think, for now, we need to assume that the Map is acting up. It's old and there is no reason to suggest otherwise."

"You don't believe that," James tutted quietly.

Remus shook his head. "No, I don't. But there's nothing else we can do. The staff is on alert. Harriet knows to be careful. I have the Map here. That's it."

James nodded, but didn't look satisfied. Remus, too, felt incredibly frustrated that there was nothing he could do to help Harriet further, so he could only imagine how James felt, not being able to do anything for his daughter.

Remus changed the subject. "How's the search for the Horcruxes coming?"

"Good," James said slowly. "We found a fake Horcrux in the cave, but think Sirius's brother might have had the real one, so I'll be talking to Padfoot about that. We have the cup, also thanks to Sirius and his work at the bank, and Dumbledore has already destroyed the ring."

"You're making good progress," Remus said approvingly. He moved to stand behind his desk and flipped through some pages of an old book. "There are rumors of an ancient relic of Ravenclaw, a diadem, as it were. I can't find anything more than myth, though. I'm hoping to use the Potter library over break and maybe found something more."

"I've already told you to feel free," James offered, "But this whole thing will be pointless if we can't find a way to destroy them."

"Lily and Severus are working on it," Remus said, shutting the book. "Horcruxes are tricky because they can repair themselves. You need to find a way to destroy them before they can heal. Finding something that can do that, but not kill  _you_ is a bit difficult."

"You've been doing your research," James teased.

Remus shrugged. "Sirius leant me some old books. When are you going to talk to him about Regulus?"

James sighed and hauled himself out of the chair. "Now is as good a time as any, I suppose. Don't want to lose my nerve."

"You have plenty of that," Remus assured.

James smiled. "Wish me luck?"

"Good luck," Remus said, and the two men embraced. James nodded and took a step into the Floo. With a reluctant wave, he disappeared to Sirius's (and, by extension, Remus's) flat.

Remus made a face. He did not envy James in what he was about to do.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992**

"Myrtle?" Harriet called hesitantly. "Are you here?"

"I'm always here," Myrtle said petulantly from behind the group. Ron, Hermione, and Harriet jumped and gasped, Hermione almost falling over. Myrtle crossed her arms and glared at them. "Where else would I be?"

"I- I don't know," Harriet said, clearing her throat. "Just thought I'd be polite."

"Hmph," Myrtle sniffed. She looked as though she were going to say something, when she noticed Ron. She blushed quite prettily- for a ghost.

"Hello, Ronald," she tittered. "How are you today?"

Poor Ron looked like Dudley had when Aunt Marge cornered him for a kiss. Harriet subtly kicked his shin, warning him not to upset Myrtle. She might have seen something last night or earlier.

"Fine, Myrtle. And how about you?"

Myrtle sighed, long and drawn-out. "Oh, alright, I suppose. I'd be better if somebody hadn't thrown something at me last night."

"Somebody threw something at you?" Harriet asked, trying to sound concerned.

Hermione didn't manage so well. "Last night? Around what time?"

Myrtle narrowed her eyes at Hermione and floated right up to her, looking her right in the eye. "Why so interested? Do you think it's funny?  _Oh let's throw things at Myrtle! It'll be fun!_ Is that what you all think?"

"Of course not, Myrtle," Harriet interjected. "Hermione was just wondering who could have done it. It's awful what they did to you."

Myrtle eyed Hermione distrustfully and then turned to Harriet, making a pitiful noise in the back of her throat. "It was late and dark, so I didn't see. I heard some funny noises, like hissing, then some scraping. I came to look and see what it was, since it was past curfew, but I suppose I scared them, because they threw the book at me. I was distracted and they got away."

"What book?" Ron asked.

Myrtle pointed to a puddle in the corner.

Harriet walked over and picked up the small, leather, water-soaked book resting on the floor. She flipped through it briefly, looking to see what was inside, but it was empty.

"There's nothing written in here," she noted. She turned to Myrtle "Are you sure you didn't see who threw this at you?"

She scowled and Harriet took that as a clear sign. "Thanks for your help, Myrtle!"

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione quickly left the bathroom, not wanting to upset Myrtle further. Ron gazed wide-eyed at the door.

"Well, if Pettigrew did go in there last night, I'm not surprised he didn't come out. Myrtle probably killed him and is orchestrating a cover-up!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald, haven't you been listening? Pettigrew couldn't have gone in there. He would have shown up on the Map."

"Well, then who threw that book at Myrtle?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'd love to find them and congratulate them."

"I don't know," Harriet said swiftly, preventing Hermione from saying anything. "But we should probably-"

"POTTER!"

McGonagall was walking quickly towards them. Harriet didn't hesitate to hide the book behind her. In a move that would put most Aurors to shame, Hermione secretly took the journal from her and let it fall in her bag.

McGonagall didn't notice a thing. She approached the group and looked sternly down at Harriet. Harriet tried her best to look innocent, which probably just made her look that much more guilty.

"The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office." McGonagall informed her.

Harriet's eyes widened. "Why? What did I do?"

"I assume he wants to discuss the incident last night," McGonagall said. Harriet nodded.

"Okay."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "The password is 'cockroach clusters.'"

Harriet started. "Oh! You meant  _now!_ Alright."

Harriet darted off and McGonagall watched her with an amused, but affectionate, look on her face.

"That girl," she muttered, before leaving.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992**

Harriet opened the door cautiously and peeked into the office. There was nobody there. She walked in hesitantly and looked around, as though expecting Dumbledore to jump out and scare her.

She wouldn't put it past him, to be honest.

"Professor," she said hesitantly. "Professor, are you in here? McGo- I mean, Professor McGonagall said you wanted to talk to me."

Harriet let out a huff when she realized that Dumbledore wasn't there. Looking around and biting her lip, not really sure what she should do.

Then she saw the Sorting Hat.

She had been thinking a lot about the hat, especially in context of her dreams. His robes had told her that Riddle had been in Slytherin. Combined with the fact that he, too, could speak Parselmouth, made Harriet wonder more and more about whether or not she had been sorted correctly.

Harriet loved Gryffindor. She met Ron and Hermione there. Most of her family (well, the family worth mentioning) had been in Gryffindor. Harriet  _was_ a Gryffindor.

Right?

Edging towards the table where the Sorting Hat sat, Harriet glanced around one last time to make sure that nobody was coming up the stairs, and then placed the hat firmly on her head. At first, Harriet didn't really know what to expect, but then it began to talk.

"Well, well, well," it drawled. "Harriet Potter. What a surprise. It's not often I get visitors in the middle of the year. What brings you here?"

"Well, Mr. Hat, sir," Harriet stuttered. She swallowed nervously. "I was wondering- I mean, what you said to me during my Sorting-"

"Ah, yes," the Sorting Hat chuckled. "I can see you've been having your doubts."

Harriet nodded.

"I can tell you no more or no less than what I told you before. You would have done well in Slytherin."

"Liar!" Harriet said fiercely, ignoring the Hat's self-satisfied chuckles and putting him back down on the table, perhaps a bit more fiercely than she should have. Huffing, she crossed her arms and turned her back on the Sorting Hat, coming face-to-face with-

A bird?

It was like no bird Harriet had ever seen before. Old and weathered, it's feathers looked to be once-brilliant shades of orange, red, and yellow. Calculating eyes watched her warily from the perch. It let out a small hum, calling her closer.

Harriet didn't hesitate. Taking a few steps closer, she smiled at it. The bird winked-  _What was it with animals winking at her?-_ and then burst into a bright ball of flame.

Harriet jumped backwards, almost knocking over a chair. She watched helplessly as the bird burned and as the flame slowly died out. All that Harriet could see left were ashes.

Before Harriet could take a closer look, though, the door to the office began to jiggle. Already in a huge amount of trouble for the attacks, Harriet did not want to be caught having killed Professor Dumbledore's bird.

Thinking quickly, she shot into a cupboard by Dumbledore's desk, shutting the door gently behind her, leaving only a small window for her to peak through, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Harriet couldn't help but think back to the last time she had been in this position: hiding from Malfoy and his father in Knockturn Alley. Hopefully, this time, things would work out a bit better.

Squinting through the crack she had allowed herself, Harriet was able to watch as Dumbledore entered his office, followed by a stumpy, toad looking woman. Fat and dressed completely in pink, Harriet felt an extreme dislike for her already.

It grew worse when Harriet realized that she was annoying Dumbledore. Dumbledore didn't really make it obvious when he was annoyed or angry. Teaching at a school filled with rambunctious students, the man needed the patience of a saint.  But Harriet could tell by the tenseness of his shoulders and his subtle jibes that this woman was pushing all of Dumbledore's buttons.

"Madam Umbridge," Dumbledore said cooly, "I urge you to remove the Dementors from the castle. They can do nothing by disrupt our school. One of our students has already-"

"Yes," Umbridge giggled, her high voice making Harriet wince. "The Ministry was made aware of this incident, but was the student in question not also guilty of arriving late and flouting the International Statute of Wizard Secrecy? It is only because of a favor to you, Dumbledore, that we did not have a hearing."

Harriet's eyes widened. She hadn't know that the Ministry had wanted her present for another hearing. At this rate, she'd have more hearings than most of the  _criminals_ in the wizarding world.

"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly. "A favor that I am most grateful for. Never mind the fact that the Ministry has no jurisdiction over what happens to students once they are on Hogwarts grounds, which is why the Dementors must go."

"Are you threatening the Ministry, Headmaster?" Umbridge demanded.

"Not at all," Dumbledore denied. "I am simply pointing out that, legally, the Ministry has no right to inflict Dementors on Hogwarts. They remain here only because I allow them to."

"They are here for the students' protection," Umbridge said firmly.

Dumbledore made an odd noise in the back of his throat. "I see."

"Surely, you do. After the events of last year, can you blame us for being a bit more careful?"

"No, no. Of course not," Dumbledore said easily. "The events of last year were tragic, indeed, but how does placing Dementors around the castle protect students from dangers that might very well be  _inside?"_

Harriet didn't know if Dumbledore was talking about Pettigrew, the attacks, or something else entirely, but he had a good point. Umbridge's cheeks flushed angrily.

"I do not know what you mean."

"I simply mean to say," Dumbledore said, "That, so far, the Dementors have done little to prevent danger from entering the school. You have heard of the attacks, no doubt, and the Aurors have been made aware of the possibility of Pettigrew inside the castle. There is also the matter of Rita Skeeter making the lives of one of our students public."

"Yes," Umbridge said with an overdramatic sigh. "But one can not help but wonder, Headmaster, whether these incidents are a result of the Dementors' shortcomings, or yours?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I have been running this school for many years, Madam Umbridge."

"Yes," Umbridge simpered. "And you have done a remarkable job. However, perhaps it is time for new management. You aren't getting any younger, Professor, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Shut up you stupid, old, cow," Harriet hissed angrily. She clapped her hands over her mouth, realizing her slip. Thankfully, nobody seemed to hear her.

"I am simply saying," Umbridge added. "That perhaps your attachment to certain students is clouding your judgement."

Harriet frowned, wondering if Umbridge meant her, but then shook it off. She probably meant one of the older students. Dumbledore had a soft spot for Harriet's parents, but considering all the trouble she had been in, Harriet doubted that this affection extended much to her.

"I will remain at the school as long as the School Board wishes me to," Dumbledore said mildly. "Now, Madam Umbridge, I have a prior engagement that I really must attend to. You can see your way out."

Umbridge left and Dumbledore let out a sigh. He looked older than Harriet had ever seen him. Then he straightened and turned towards Harriet's hiding place. His eyes were twinkling merrily.

"You can come out now, Harriet," he said jovially.

Harriet blushed bright red and stepped outside. She stuttered an apology. "I'm sorry, sir. I heard you coming and didn't know- I panicked and didn't think to- I couldn't help but overhear..."

"Curiosity is not a sin, Harriet," Dumbledore said mildly, "But you should exercise great caution. It can get you into trouble."

"Yes, sir," Harriet nodded, already having experience. She gestured towards the perch where the bird had once stood. "I'm sorry, but your bird. It just exploded. There was nothing I could do, I promise!"

"Oh, there is no need to worry, my dear girl," Dumbledore chuckled. "Come see."

Harriet walked closer and looked at the spot Dumbledore was pointing. Slowly, from the ashes, a small, grey, bird emerged from the ashes. It blinked slowly and then let out a small chirp.

Harriet was awestruck. "Is that-"

"The same bird," Dumbledore affirmed mildly. "His name his Fawkes and he is no ordinary bird. He's a Phoenix. Marvelous creatures, Phoenixes, able to be reborn from the ashes of their former life. Incredibly loyal, they can carry immensely heavy loads and their tears are reputed to have healing powers."

Harriet smiled at the small chick, which was gazing at them curiously. "He's beautiful."

"Yes, I think so, too," Dumbledore agreed. "Pity you had to see him on a burning day."

Dumbledore gestured to a seat in front of his desk. Harriet followed his advice and sat down on it. She eyed him apprehensively. "Sir?"

"You cannot be at a loss, Harriet, as to why I called you here," he said gently.

"It's about the attacks, yeah?" Harriet asked, biting her lip.

Dumbledore nodded.

"I promise, sir," Harriet said quickly, "I had nothing to do with them."

"I know you didn't," Dumbledore assured. "However, if there is anything that you are not telling me, Harriet, now would be the time. If I am to protect the school, I need to obtain all of the information that I can."

"I already told you everything, sir," Harriet said after a moment. Dumbledore said nothing. He gazed at her firmly for several more moments before nodding.

"Very well, Harriet," he said. He stood up and gestured that she was free to do the same. "That is all, I suppose. I would advise you, though, to use supreme caution when wandering the halls these days. Your uncle has informed me of your suspicions about Pettigrew, and the attacks, and the Dementors- "

Dumbledore was silent. "I am afraid to say that Hogwarts is not as safe as it once was."

Harriet, feeling bold, attempted to comfort the headmaster. "Hogwarts will always be safe with you around, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "I am glad you think so, Harriet, but as you overheard, that opinion is not popular at the moment. For your sake, though, as well as the other students, I hope this matter will be resolved soon."

"Me, too, sir," Harriet said after a moment, not sure what else to say. She felt oddly grown up, having Dumbledore confide in her like this. It made her feel a bit guilty that she didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about the voice she had been hearing, but the last thing she needed was anybody telling her that she was going crazy.

Harriet turned to leave when she noticed something on Dumbledore's desk. She blinked, several times, but it was still there.

The ring from her dream

With a crack right through the middle, sure, but the ring nonetheless.

"Sir, where did you get that ring?" Harriet asked.

Dumbledore raised both eyebrows and turned to look at the ring in question. He frowned and then, after a moment, turned back to her.

"From an old student of the school," Dumbledore said after a moment.

The guilt Harriet had felt disappeared. Dumbledore wasn't telling her everything. He was hiding something.

Harriet bit her lip and looked at the ring again. She also noticed the gold cup next to it. She felt a slight twinge run through her scar and reached her hand up to soothe it.

"Are you alright, Harriet?" Dumbledore asked, looking much more concerned than the situation warranted.

"Just fine, sir," Harriet muttered, just managing to tear her eyes away from the ring."Where did it get the crack?"

"I think that is all for today, Harriet," Dumbledore said after a moment, an odd look in his eye.

Harriet took that as a dismissal and left, but not without one last glance at the ring.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts- November 18, 1992**

After Harriet finished with Dumbledore, she didn't head to class. Her first class of the day was Herbology, but Harriet went straight to her dorm. She was exhausted. After getting almost no sleep the night before, Harriet could do with a few hours of sleep. Not to mention the fact that her scar was burning quite fiercely.

Professor Sprout wouldn't mind. She had a maternal streak a mile wide.

And Lockhart?

Well, Harriet could care less what  _he_ thought.

When Harriet entered the common room, though, she was surprised to see Ron and Hermione there.

She blinked. "What are you two doing here?"

Ron smirked. "Hermione thought you'd be in class, but I knew you'd come back here for a few more hours of sleep until Remus's class."

"And what was so important that it couldn't want until then?" Harriet asked, plopping down on one of the couches.

Hermione fingered the tattered cover of the diary. "I was flipping through the diary after you left when I saw this."

Hermione opened the diary up to the first page and handed it over to Harriet.

Harriet felt the room spin.

Scribbled in the top left corner of the diary's inside cover was a name

_T.M. Riddle._

Tom Marvolo Riddle was real.


	22. The Truth Behind the ROR and RAB

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**~Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- December 23, 1992**

Harriet looked up at the ceiling in contemplation. After their discovery of the diary and Tom Riddle's name, she, Ron, and Hermione had debated for ages about what it all meant. Harriet had recounted her dreams to them (including the ones she had previously left out) and told them about the ring that she had seen in Dumbledore's office.

So, the three of them agreed that Tom Riddle was real. What they couldn't understand was how much else of Harriet's dreams were real, why Harriet was dreaming about Riddle, what Dumbledore was doing investigating Riddle (What else could he be doing, after all, if he was digging around looking for students' old rings?), and what this had to do-if it even  _had_ anything to do with Chamber opening.

Harriet sat up and scowled, tugging at her hair slightly in frustrating. She had hoped that this year would be easier than the last, but, if anything, it was worse. There were just so many questions...

Who was Tom Riddle?

Why was Dumbledore looking into him?

Why was Harriet dreaming about him? And why did her scar hurt whenever she woke up from her dreams?

Did he know anything about the Chamber?

 _Who_ or  _what_ was opening the Chamber?

How was Pettigrew involved?

And how in Merlin's name was Rita Skeeter getting her information?

Apparently, her source was not quieting down anytime soon. Rita had come up with several other articles detailing the fallings of Dumbledore, which did nothing but upset Harriet even more.

Thankfully, Rita's articles were more or less the  _only_ interesting thing going on at Hogwarts. The attacks seemed to have died down, thanks to more stringent precautions on the teacher's behalves. Pettigrew hadn't been spotted- on the Map or by students.

The only really interesting thing going on were Harriet's Dementor lessons with Remus. Her Patronus had become a bit more defined and Harriet could tell that, whatever form it had taken, it was big, but still remained mostly cloud looking.

Still, Remus had decided that Harriet would not be having Dementor lessons over holiday.

"You need to take it easy," he said firmly. "This is magic far beyond your level and you need to exercise extreme caution."

Harriet had grumbled, but had agreed, knowing that her parents would take Remus's side anyways.

Now finally home, Harriet was simply laying in bed, stroking Isaura's head and relaxing for what felt to be the first time since the year had started. As safe as Hogwarts was, she couldn't help by feel more secure surrounded by the walls of Potter Manor and her family downstairs.

Her family...

They had been acting odd these past few days. It might have been longer, but Harriet had only arrived home earlier this week, so she hadn't really noticed until now.

Her father and Sirius were spending a surprising amount of time and Grimmauld Place. When Harriet asked why (she had only heard awful things about it, after all), her father said that they were just cleaning it up.

"Didn't Sirius do that already?" Harriet had asked.

Her father had stuttered and then let out a nervous chuckle. "Yes, but he didn't do a very good job, which is why I've been helping him."

Harriet had a feeling she was being lied to, but, as curious as she was about the situation, she decided that she already had enough on her plate to worry about what trouble the adults had gotten themselves into.

And Harriet's mum also seemed involved. And Snape. The two of them had been spending a lot of time in Snape's lab. Harriet only knew that because her mum would come home smelling of the Hogwart's dungeons after Seamus blew something up.

Remus wasn't spending a lot of time outdoors. On the contrary, he spent every spare minute he had working in the library. Harriet had gotten a peek at the books he had been reading. They were all history books, which made sense considering his position, but nothing that would be on the Hogwarts curriculum.

Harriet turned onto her side to face Isaura. "What do you suppose they are up to?"

Isaura hissed. " _I do not know, pequininha."_

"I should probably drop it," Harriet said thoughtfully. "We've got enough to worry about."

" _Indeed,"_ Isaura agreed. " _And the adultss musst learn to do thingss without your help. You will not always be there to clean up their messsess."_

Harriet burst out laughing. "I actually think it's the other way around. They usually clean up my messes."

 _"Not the way I have ssseen it,"_ Isaura cautioned.

"What? You mean Quirrell?" Harriet frowned. "That was just bad luck."

 _"Perhapsss,"_ Isaura said after a moment. When she spoke again, she was speaking urgently. " _But be careful. You cannot afford more bad luck. Not with the Chamber of Secretss open."_

"You know about that?" Harriet asked, sitting straight up. "Do you know where it is? Or what's inside?"

 _"I do not know where the entrance to the Chamber lies,"_ Isaura answered.  _"As for the monster inside, it is an impossible creature- far more impossible than you or I could imagine. Snakes do not speak it's name."_

"Oh, you're not going to start with that are you?" Harriet scowled. "Everybody I know has been talking in riddles lately. And what do you mean by other bit? I'm a witch, for Merlin's sake. How impossible could it be?"

Isaura didn't have a chance to answer because of a knock on the door. Harriet's father opened it and popped his head in. "Dinner, Prongslette."

Harriet hopped off of the bed and followed him out the door and downstairs into the dining room.

Neither Remus or Sirius were there, but Snape was, along with Harriet's mum. She beamed at her daughter.

"Hungry?"

"Half-starved," Harriet admitted, glancing at the clock. It was a bit late for dinner. Granted, she had gone sometimes several days at a time without food at the Dursley's, but that didn't mean she was any less hungry now.

Her mother noticed her glance at the clock.

"Sorry it's a bit late, love. Severus and I lost track of time."

"Brewing?" Harriet asked innocently, taking a spoonful of soup and blowing on it to cool it down. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we had established that there is little else one does when in a Potions Lab."

"I guess," Harriet conceded. "What were you working on?"

"Severus is just helping me with something for work," her mother said simply.

Harriet bit the inside of her cheek and tried to ignore the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was being lied to.

"Uncle Severus?" Harriet asked.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I never had a chance to ask: What do  _you_  know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Little other than it is just a fairytale to scare first years into keeping curfew- not that it really works."

"Then who's been attacking all of the students?" Harriet pressed.

"I don't know," Snape said easily. "I can assure you, though, that the Headmaster and the rest of the professors are working on it."

"Why all the interest, Harriet?" Harriet's father asked, trying to move conversation in another direction.

Harriet frowned and shrugged.

"Just curious, I suppose." She admitted. "It's just all so strange."

"That's one word for it," her father said drily.

"What about Rita Skeeter?" Harriet asked after another pause in conversation.

James groaned jokingly. "So many questions! I knew we should have gotten a dog. Not nearly as much trouble."

"You already have Sirius," Harriet said, without missing a beat. "Why bother with a dog? And what about Skeeter? Do you have any idea how she might be getting her information?"

"She probably has some sort of source in the castle," Harriet's mother said uneasily. "One of the older students, perhaps, or a professor."

"A professor would never do that!" Harriet argued. She faltered. "Well, maybe Lockhart would, but he's a git."

"Harriet," her mother warned.

"Well, he is!" Harriet defended. Snape smirked. "Last week, he made me help him act out his attack of the Wagga-Wagga- Werewolf! It was absolutely ridiculous!"

James couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard. "Oh, Merlin, it sounds like something he would do. At least tell me you managed to get a good bite in."

"No," Harriet admitted. "But when he went to tackle me, I did step out of the way. He hit his head on the desk."

This tidbit of information sent James on another round of hysterical laughter. Harriet caught Snape's eye and shrugged. She wasn't trying to be funny.

Lockhart really was a git.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Potter Manor-December 25, 1992**

Harriet snuggled deeper into the covers, taking a sip of her hot cocoa. Her parents sat across from her on the couch, and Remus and Sirius had seated themselves comfortably on the floor, surrounded by pillows. Snape sat himself down in the other armchair. A fireplace roared quietly in front of them.

It had been a lovely Christmas- perhaps even more lovely than last year. Harriet hadn't gotten much- some clothes from her mum and dad, books from Snape and Remus.

Oh. And a Firebolt. From Sirius.

Yes, she had forgotten  _completely_ about that.

_Harriet, sitting on the floor, took her last present. It was from Sirius. She thanked him and began to undo the wrapping paper (blue with little penguins ice-skating on it). Once she opened the gift and, upon seeing what it was, Harriet looked up to stare at Sirius, astonished._

_It was a Firebolt._

_Harriet didn't think she had ever seen anything so beautiful in her entire life._

_He smirked. "To replace your Nimbus."_

_She tackled him in a hug, too thrilled for words, but still managing to mumble, over and over again, "Thank-you, thank-you."_

_Sirius had laughed and hugged her back, while her father, who had been admiring the broom, had frowned._

_"Darn you, Padfoot," he muttered. "I was going to get her one of those but they were out of stock when I went. How did you manage to get this one?"_

_"You underestimate me, Prongs," Sirius said, resting his chin on Harriet's head as he spoke, ignoring the way her hair tickled his face. "I went out and bought this broom the day after Harriet lost her Nimbus. It's been killing me holding on to it."_

_"Oh, it's brilliant, Uncle Padfoot!" Harriet assured. She let go of Sirius and grabbed the broom off of the floor, being careful not to scratch it. "I can't wait to try it out-"_

_Harriet was stopped by a tug on her collar. She looked up to see her disapproving, but amused, mum. "Mum?"_

_"You aren't going out there in this weather," she said firmly. Harriet looked out one of the windows. Sure enough, it was snowing quite harshly._

_Harriet found that she didn't care._

_"But- Firebolt," she said weakly and by way of explanation._

_"But nothing," her mum said firmly._

_Her father opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that, not only was his wife right, but there was no way he would win this argument._

_Harriet gazed forlornly at the broom and then placed it carefully on the coffee table._

_"So, what do we do now then?"_

_"There's only one thing_ **_to_ ** _do on a day like today," Lily said knowingly._

That was how the family found themselves seated comfortable around the fireplace. Harriet took another sip of cocoa.

"All we need now are some ghost stories," she mused aloud. "I bet the Hogwarts ghosts know some good ones, considering the things they've seen."

"What did you say?" Remus asked suddenly, placing his cocoa down on the floor and looking incredibly excited.

"Just that the Hogwarts ghosts probably have some good stories," Harriet said surprised at his reaction.

Remus was up from the floor like a shot. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?"

Before Harriet could even think to answer, Remus had left the room. Harriet frowned and turned to her parents, who each shrugged. Sirius let out a sigh and lifted himself up off of the floor, groaning a bit as he stretched.

"I'll go make sure he's alright," Sirius announced before following Remus out of the living room.

* * *

**Sirius and Remus, Library, Potter Manor- December 25, 1992**

"Why'd you run out?" Sirius asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. Remus, who had been leaning over a book, jumped in surprise. When he saw it was Sirius, he beckoned him in.

"It's something Harriet mentioned to me," he said excitedly, "About the ghosts. I'd been looking everywhere for the diadem, but nobody living has any clue where it could be, and there's no information in the history books. Then I realized what Harriet said: nobody  _living."_

"The ghosts aren't living," Sirius realized. Remus nodded.

"Exactly. Then I remembered something I had read ages ago in  _Hogwarts: A History_  about the ghosts- the Grey Lady, in particular."

Remus flipped to the right page and handed the book to Sirius. "Take a look at that."

"She's Ravenclaw's daughter," Sirius said. "Really?"

"I have so many questions to ask her," Remus said, almost dreamily. "First and foremost about her mother's diadem."

Sirius shut the book firmly. "But not today."

He placed the book on the table and placed his hands on Remus's shoulders, steering Remus back into the hall.

"Today is Christmas. It's a time for family."

Remus grinned, remembering those many Christmases he had spent alone. "Quite right."

* * *

**Remus Lupin, Hogwarts- December 26, 1992**

Remus sat across from Dumbledore and rubbed his face with his hands. Dumbledore watched patiently, waiting for the younger man to gather himself together.

Remus had arrived at the school several hours earlier to speak to the Grey Lady- or Helena Ravenclaw, as Remus learned her real name to be. Remus had finally managed to extract the horrifying story of Helena's death, and the Bloody Baron's. Understandably, the Grey Lady had been hesitant about sharing the information, but thankfully she and Remus had gotten along quite well together during his time at Hogwarts, often spending hours at the library in each other's company.

Now, Remus had just explained to Dumbledore what he had learned (leaving out the more personal details- those were Helena's, and Helena's alone, to share).

"I just don't know where to go from here," Remus said with a sigh. "The Grey Lady confirmed that the diadem existed. She confirmed that Voldemort used it as a Horcrux. What she didn't know was where the Horcrux had gone."

Dumbledore pursed his lips in thought. "I do not know. I might have known Riddle well, but even I can't guess where he might have hid this Horcrux. You will have to give me some time to think, Remus. For now, go home. Get some rest. The full moon is soon."

"Yes, Professor," Remus said, feeling a bit like a chastised student.

He stood up and left the office, his thoughts still centered on the Horcrux. He walked past the tapestry on the third floor corridor-

_If only I knew where to find it..._

_-_ and stopped.

He turned slowly to face the wall, jaw dropping in astonishment.

There were few people who knew the castle better than the Marauders- Peeves, maybe. And Filch. And the Weasley twins, from what Remus could tell. Still, he and his three friends had mapped out every inch of that castle and explored every secret passageway they could find.

Never, though, had they found this.

A door had formed- seemingly out of nowhere- in the wall. Remus had walked through this hall dozens of times, as both a student and teacher, but never seen it before.

 _There was that one time_ , Remus recalled, the memory fuzzy with disuse,  _that Sirius and I were pulling a prank and needed to hide and we found that cupboard here... We never were able to find it again-_

Remus opened the door and bit back another gasp.

This most definitely was  _not_ a cupboard.

It was a large room filled with the oddest and largest collection of items Remus had ever seen. Books, bags, toys, food, furniture- anything and everything. It was incredibly.

Remus began to walk around cautiously, wand out, as a force of habit, but he was alone. He felt as though he were back at school with James and Sirius (and, in a way, Peter), exploring the castle again. He wished they were here with him, but he had no idea how to call the room back again, so he needed to take the opportunity to explore now.

Remus took a random left, not really sure where he was going at this point, and blushed scarlet as he came face-to-face with a pair of red, lacy, underwear.

 _Thank Merlin neither Padfoot or Prongs saw that,_  he thought, quickly heading in the opposite direction.  _I'd never live it down._

Looking back, Remus would find himself feeling incredibly thankful for that underwear though. Without it, he never would have averted his eyes and seen  _it._

The diadem of Ravenclaw.

It was old, discolored, and nothing special to behold, but he recognized it from drawings and Helena's description.

Not questioning his good luck, he grabbed the tiara and looked around dubiously, as though somebody was going to try and take it from him. Truth be told, the entire situation was too good to be true.

What were the odds of the room where Voldemort had hidden the crown showing up just when he had needed it?

Remus was hit with a crystal clear thought.

_I need to see Dumbledore again._

* * *

**Sirius Black, Grimmauld Place- December 26, 1992**

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Remus, Sirius was sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes and piles and bags of random junk lying around his house. He continued to sift through each item, tossing it to the side once he saw that it was not the locket.

The note that James and Dumbledore had found made it seem possible that, at some point in the last years of his life, Regulus had turned away from Voldemort. Sirius didn't quite know how to feel about it, but for the moment, he decided not to think about it.

There was still a chance, after all, that it wasn't Regulus.

It could have been anybody else!

With the same initials...

Sirius picked up a small bag and began rifling through it.

_No..._

_No..._

_No.._

Merlin, at this rate, he'd be here for the rest of his life. He'd never leave. For some reason, he had sudden images of everything he would miss if he spent the rest of his life here. He saw all the full moons with Moony, relaxing after work with James, Harriet's graduation, Harriet's  _wedding_ -

Well, maybe not that last one. He doubted James would be relenting on his "no dating" policy anytime soon. If Harriet ever did get married-

No.

He shook himself out of it. This was what happened when you spent six hours straight digging through rubbish. He needed to focus. It was a shame that James wasn't able to be here, but he had been called in on urgent Auror business. It was unusual for one of them to go without the other, but apparently it was only a minor incident involving Mad-Eye Moody and some trashcans. Sirius chuckled. That man was paranoid to the point of insanity. It's what made him such a good Auror.

Sirius picked up another box and began to sort through it.

_No..._

_No..._

_What the hell is that?_

_No..._

_N-_

Sirius held up a locket- an exact copy of the one that James had found in the cave- that had been buried at the bottom of the bag.

 _Damn,_ Sirius thought, thinking of Dumbledore,  _the old man was right._

Sirius flipped the locket over and ran his finger over the engravings. It was quite pretty, if he was honest. Probably something he would have given Harriet, if he hadn't known what it really was.

He shuddered at the thought.

Sirius placed the rest of the box off to the side and stood up. He let the locket dangle from the chain and watched it turn in the light. He was about to put it in his pocket when a loud screech interrupted him.

"No!"

A small, dark, blur suddenly jumped out from behind one of the couches and snatched the locket out of his hand.

Sirius sputtered.

"Kreacher!" Sirius scowled, momentarily forgetting about his mother's portrait. When he did remember, it was too late. She began screaming angrily about Mudbloods and scum. Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore her.

He hissed, speaking more quietly, "What did you do that for?"

Kreacher didn't say anything, but instead tried to flee the room. Sirius grabbed him by the back of his grubby uniform.

"Stay here!" Sirius ordered, too shocked to ask for the locket back. Kreacher might have been a bizarre elf with a penchant for stealing, but even he had never been so blatant as to steal something directly from his master's hand.

"And answer the question!"

Kreacher struggled against the order, but wasn't able to fight it.

"Kreacher promised," Kreacher choked.

Sirius rubbed his face with his hand.  _That elf..._

"Promised who what?" Sirius demanded. "And give me that locket back."

For the first time since Sirius had known him, Kreacher disobeyed a direct order. He clutched the locket tightly and took several steps back from Sirius. He kept rocking back and forth on his heels, mumbling to himself, "Kreacher promised. Kreacher promised."

Sirius's initial reaction would have been to kick Kreacher to the side and taken the locket by force, but then he remembered Harriet.

He didn't really know  _why_ he chose that moment to remember her, but he did. He remembered James telling him about the conversation he and Harriet had had in front of Gringotts during her first trip to Diagon Alley and he remembered how appalled Harriet had been at the statue of the house elf in the Ministry.

But, most importantly, he remembered Harriet, on the first day he had seen her since Azkaban, when he had snapped at the Dursleys.

She had been so  _scared._

Of  _him._

He had let his anger get the better of him, but she had forgiven him. Would she forgive him if he did it again?

Sirius had never liked Kreacher. He doubted that he ever would. In fact, Sirius would probably spend the rest of his life hating Kreacher, and Kreacher hating him. But in that moment Sirius was faced with two decisions.

One that his goddaughter would  _understand._

The other that his goddaughter would be proud of.

He mentally cursed James for having a kid and naming him godfather. He wouldn't have been in this situation otherwise.

Sirius then crouched down to be closer to Kreacher and took a deep, calming breath.

"Kreacher?" Sirius asked hesitantly. "What are you talking about?"

Realizing that being gentle would not work, Sirius said firmly, "Tell me."

"Kreacher-" Kreacher gasped. "Kreacher promised Master Regulus."

Kreacher let out another gasp and Sirius felt his heart plummet into his stomach. He cleared his throat.

"What did you promise him? What happened? Kreacher, do you know how Regulus died?"

The elf burst into a fresh round of tears, confirming Sirius's question and making his mother's painting scream all over again. All of these years, Sirius had never considered asking Kreacher about his brother, but, now, it made sense. They had always been close.

"Tell me what happened," Sirius ordered again.

Kreacher, took a gasping breath and began to tell his story. He explained about the night that Voldemort had asked for a house elf and Regulus had volunteered him. Kreacher described the cave- the same cave that James and Dumbledore had explored weeks earlier. He talked about the potion and the Horcrux.

Then, Kreacher told him about the night Regulus died. Kreacher explained that Regulus had not let Kreacher take the potion again and that Regulus's last orders were for Kreacher was to return home and destroy the locket. Kreacher let out a wail, ashamed that, as hard as he might have tried, the locket still existed.

Sirius sat straight down, almost falling backwards, his mother's screaming long pushed to the back of his mind.

He let out a bitter laugh.

_All that time..._

Kreacher had known for all that time, but Sirius had never asked.

Because of  _pride._

And, to make matters worse, Regulus had to go and be a  _hero_.

Sirius put his face in his hands and rubbed hard. What a day. He scowled as Kreacher let out another wail. The elf hadn't stopped crying since he had finished telling his story, not that Sirius blamed him.

Sirius eyed him warily and let out a heavy sigh. Right, first deal with the hysterical elf. Then his own feelings.

He was procrastinating and he knew it, but he didn't really care.

"Right, Kreacher," Sirius said. "Thank-you for telling me."

Kreacher sniffled.

"I'm going to need the locket, Kreacher," Sirius said after a moment. Kreacher clutched it tighter to his chest. "I need to destroy it Kreacher."

Kreacher looked at him, obviously not trusting him one bit. "Master Sirius will fulfill Master Regulus's last wishes?"

That was the most respectfully Kreacher had ever addressed him. Sirius nodded and held out his hand for the locket. Kreacher gave it to Sirius, but the expression on his face looked almost pained.

Sirius felt slightly guilty. Placing the Horcrux in his pocket, he nudged the other locket in his pocket (the harmless one that James had found in the cave and given to him for comparison). He had an idea.

"Kreacher," Sirius called. Kreacher blinked in response. "To reward you for your bravery, I am sure Regulus would want you to have this."

Sirius handed Kreacher the normal locket, which Kreacher took reverently. At first, Sirius thought that Kreacher wouldn't accept it, but then Kreacher burst into another round of hysterical sobs. He threw himself down at Sirius's feet. Sirius, feeling incredibly awkward, patted Kreacher gently on the back.

"There, there," he said hesitantly. "It's alright."

Kreacher looked up at Sirius thankfully. "Thank you, Master Sirius! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Sirius said in surprise. He stood up. "I need to be going, now."

Kreacher straightened and followed Sirius as he headed for the Floo. "When will you be back, Master Sirius?"

Sirius blanched.

"I- I don't know," he admitted. Kreacher looked disappointed and, without thinking, Sirius added, "But soon."

Kreacher brightened. "Kreacher will make sure the house is ready for the Master."

Sirius nodded. "You do that."

"And the little Mistress?" Kreacher prodded. "Mistress Harriet? Will you be bringing her along?"

"Harriet?" Sirius asked in surprise.

"Yes!" Kreacher said excitedly. Sirius had never seen this side of the Kreacher before. If Kreacher was always like this, Sirius could see why Regulus had always been found of him. "Master Regulus always spoke fondly of the little Mistress."

"He  _did?"_ Sirius asked in surprise. He didn't realize that Regulus cared about Sirius's friends. He was learning all sorts of new surprises today.

Kreacher nodded and Sirius said, "Well, maybe. We'll see next time I come here. I need to make sure the house is safe, first."

"Of course, of course," Kreacher nodded. "Kreacher will help Master Sirius in any way he can."

"Thanks," Sirius said after a minute, and meaning it. "I'll see you soon. Take care."

Then Sirius left through the Floo.

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Sirius Black, Potter Manor- December 26, 1992**

Harriet was alone at home for the first time in a very long time. It wasn't supposed to be that way. It was the day after Christmas, after all.

But she was.

Remus and Sirius and Snape each had their own business to attend to, so Harriet had been left with her parents. Then there was an emergency with some old friend of her father's, so  _he_ had to leave, and then Snape had an issue with a potion and Harriet's mum had stepped out to help him.

She had made Harriet promise to not open the door for anyone and to not touch the stove (despite Harriet's assurances that she hadn't burned herself in years, neither one of her parents wanted her cooking).

So, Harriet sat with Isaura and her Broomstick Servicing Kit (a gift from Hermione), cleaning her Firebolt.

At least, that's what she was doing until Sirius stumbled through the Floo.

He looked more tired and worn out than Harriet had ever seen him, even more so than the day he and her parents had first shown up at the Dursley's. His eyes were red and he looked as though he had been crying.

Harriet sat straight up.

"Sirius?"

"Not now, Prongslette," he rasped, sitting down harshly on the couch. Harriet moved closer to him.

"Uncle Padfoot?" She asks. "Are you alright?"

"I said ' _Not now,'_ Prongslette," Sirius snapped, far more harshly than he had intended. Harriet flinched, surprised and Sirius groaned. He had managed to do so well with Kreacher, and then he had gone and snapped at her.

He opened his arms. "I'm sorry, Prongslette. I didn't mean to- It's been a long day and I- I just-"

Harriet didn't hesitate in hopping up on the couch next to him and wrapping him in a hug. All she knew was that he was upset and needed comforting. That was more than enough for her.

They stayed like that for an immeasurable amount of time. When Harriet's mother came home a little while later, that's how she found them: curled up on the couch, asleep, smiles on both of their faces.


	23. A New Type of Fear

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts- January 9, 1993**

It took almost a week after break had ended for Harriet to find the time to talk to Ron and Hermione about everything she had learned over break. The teachers had bogged them down with work the moment they arrived and Wood had upped the number of Quidditch practices in lieu of the upcoming redo game with Slytherin.

Not that Harriet minded.

She had her new Firebolt.

The reaction upon seeing that Harriet had a Firebolt was great. She had shown it to Ron the moment she had arrived, taking it up to the boy's dorm to show him. Fred and George had been there, too, and had begged for a ride as soon as they had a chance. Then they dashed off to tell Wood, who, Harriet was convinced, would have gotten down on his hands and knees and bowed to the broom if there hadn't ready been so many boys surrounding the broom already.

Wood had been convinced (and so had the rest of the team) that they would be unbeatable with the Firebolt, but only if they kept it quiet. He should have known better to think that secrets could actually stay secret in Hogwarts.

By the end of the day, the entire school knew, including Malfoy ( _"Firebolt or not, Potter, you won't be winning this match, I assure you."_ ), Professor McGonagall ( _"The Slytherin team won't know what hit them; Oh, Severus's face!"),_ and Snape  _("Brilliant- A faster, more expensive way to get yourself killed. Your godfather shows his love in mysterious ways."_ ).

The broom, having made Oliver more excited about the game, had prompted Wood to increase the number and duration of Quidditch Practice and Harriet, so exhausted by the end of the day, would often barely have energy to do her work before falling into bed.

...let alone talk to Hermione and Ron about the family tree she had seen in the library.

Finally, on a day that was too rainy even for  _Wood_ to have practice, Harriet found the time to sit down in the Common Room with her friends.

"It seems like we haven't seen you in ages," Hermione said, looking up from her Potions book.

Ron had been flipping through his (or, rather, Harriet's old one) as well, and snorted. "Understatement."

"Wood's been going mad with all this practice," Harriet sighed. "We have that rematch against Slytherin- finally."

"I don't know why he's so worried," Ron said with a roll of his eyes. "You have a  _Firebolt._ "

Harriet grinned at the mention of her broom. "I know. Malfoy seems pretty confident though."

"He's an idiot," Hermione said succinctly.

"I don't know, though," Harriet frowned. Ron frowned too.

"What? You think he's got something planned?"

Harriet shrugged. "Beats me. I mean, not even  _he_ would try something in front of the whole school. And he's playing, too, besides."

"We'll keep an eye on him anyways," Hermione assured.

"Thanks," Harriet said with a sigh. She leaned backwards against the armchair behind her. For a moment the three of them sat in silence- Ron and Hermione studying, Harriet closing her eyes and getting some rest.

Harriet, not opening her eyes, finally said, "I got a look at my family tree in the library."

Harriet heard Hermione straighten in excitement. "You did?

"Don't look so excited," Harriet sighed. "I didn't find anything. The tree didn't go that far back, and it was the most detailed one I could find."

Hermione sighed. "Shame."

"Not like it matters," Hermione assured, worried that her words could be taken the wrong way. "Even if you are related to Slytherin, it doesn't make a difference about who  _you_ are."

"That's right," Ron nodded, but Harriet could tell that he wasn't paying attention. He was too busy scribbling in his - _her-_ book.

"You still haven't found your Potions book, yet?"

Ron looked apologetic. "No, sorry mate. I don't know what happened. It was in my bag at the shop at Flourish and Blotts, and, after we payed for it all, I dumped everything from the bag in my luggage as soon as we got home. But when I got to Hogwarts and went to unpack, it just wasn't there. I don't get it."

"No worries," Harriet waved his apologies away. "Snape gave me one of the old Potions books."

Harriet reached into her bag and pulled it out. Hermione, seeing it close up for the first time, narrowed her eyes.

"That's the Potions book used by the sixth and seventh years!" She said accusingly. "Snape gave you that?"

"He said as long as he didn't catch me brewing anything that wasn't part of the curriculum, I should be able to manage," Harriet shrugged. Truth be told, the book was fantastic. She had no trouble understanding it thanks to all the time she spent brewing with Snape from  _his own notes_. Although Snape was very detailed and careful, his methods could be unorthodox and very advanced, which made it difficult for Harriet sometimes. This text was much more clear.

Not to mention the Prince's notes.

Seeing Hermione's suspicious look, Harriet added, "It's not too bad, but it's a bit tricky. Snape probably wanted to see me get confused and fail."

"Sounds like him," Ron agreed. Hermione wasn't as satisfied. She eyed the book a bit hungrily.

"Would you like to switch with me?" she offered. "I can give you my book and I'll take that one. I'm sure I'll have no problems understanding-"

Harriet's eyebrows shot up. She knew Hermione hadn't meant it as in insult, but Harriet couldn't help but take it as a slight on her Potions abilities, which were fine, thank you very much. Truth be told, the only reason she floundered so much in Snape's class was because she got too easily distracted joking around with Ron who often used the cauldron next to her (sharing with either Seamus or Hermione) or helping Neville (who she usually partnered with). On her own, with Snape, she did just fine.

"Probably best not to," Harriet pointed out. "We don't want to get Snape angry."

There. A perfectly logical explanation.

"Well, he doesn't have to know," Hermione pointed out sensibly.

"It's fine, Hermione," Harriet said hotly. "Just drop it."

"I'm only trying to help you, Harriet," Hermione scowled.

Harriet glared at her. "By telling me that I'm stupid?"

"I didn't say that!" Hermione argued. "I just meant that you're-"

"Not as smart as you," Harriet finished. Hermione narrowed her eyes and sat up straighter.

"Well, you aren't!"

Harriet stood straight up, flushing indignantly. She ignored the silence that had fallen over the Common Room. Indeed, nobody said a word. It was so rare to see a fight break out among the three friends (save for the small squabbles between Ron and Hermione, of course). All eyes were on Harriet as she stormed out of the room.

Poor Ron was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could either stay with Hermione or go after Harriet. Glancing at Hermione's fuming expression, he decided to stick with her. It was the safer option. Harriet would be more understanding that Hermione would if Ron had gone after Harriet.

Harriet didn't pay attention to where she was going. She was walking past some abandoned classrooms when she heard it.

A sniffle.

She bit her lip and was silent.

There it was again! Coming from a cupboard.

Tip-toeing to the door, Harriet eased it open and peaked inside the cupboard. Sitting on a rusty pail was Neville, looking incredibly miserable. He looked up at her, surprised.

"Ah," she said, "Hello."

She stepped into the closet, the door shutting behind her.

"No!" Neville cried, but it was too late. Harriet frowned and looked at him, confused.

"What?"

"There's a charm on the door," Neville grumbled. "So that the door can't be opened from the inside. I've been here since classes ended for the day."

"Well, that's stupid," Harriet frowned. "Why bother making the door un-openable from the inside if somebody from the outside can just open it?"

"Malfoy and his friends stuck me in here," Neville huffed. Harriet nodded, understanding. "They're the ones that put the charm on it."

"Can't you unlock it with magic? I don't think the Professors would mind."

"Filch must've charmed it or had one of the professors make it so that magic won't work on the locks. Magic doesn't work here at all, actually. Probably so nobody can steal his stuff. Malfoy and his friends really knew what they were doing- they charmed the walls around the closet, not the closet itself."

Harriet nodded sympathetically. It was already well past dinner, almost curfew. "You must be starving."

"Yeah," he admitted.

Harriet pulled out a few roles of bread that she had stuffed with meat. She handed them to Neville. He looked at her in surprise and she shrugged.

"I always save a bit of food from dinner. It's pointless since I usually end up throwing it out, but that's what I used to do at the Dursley's whenever they fed me, since I'd go a long time without food, and I never lost the habit."

"I'm not complaining," Neville said gratefully, biting hastily into the small sandwiches. He had taken a few bites, then looked up. He offered her one of them.

"Sorry, I forgot to ask. Would you like one?"

"No thanks," Harriet said simply. "I ate already at dinner. I'm stuffed. You enjoy that."

He did. As he chewed rather noisily, he eyed Harriet out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm glad you're here, you know. I mean, not that I'd want anybody getting stuck with me- or getting stuck at all or anything- but I was getting really lonely. And it's dark in here."

Harriet looked the doorknob curiously. Barely registering Neville's words, she said, "Oh, I don't mind. It reminds me of my cupboard."

"Your what?" Neville asked, confused.

Harriet sighed and sat back down. She probably would have been able to pick the lock, but not without some sort of light.

She answered Neville's question.

"Back when I lived with the Dursleys, before I knew my parents were alive, they used to keep me in a cupboard. That was my bedroom. They'd lock me in there when they were angry or didn't want to deal with me. This is just like it, but without the spiders."

"They didn't treat you very nicely, did they?"

"No," Harriet said after a moment. "I don't suppose they did. They were awful, in all honesty. It's weird, though. I feel like I should hate them, and, while I definitely don't like, really what I do is feel bad for them."

"You're just nice like that," Neville said. He blushed, realizing what he had said, but Harriet thankfully didn't notice in the dim light of the closet.

"You're nice, too" Harriet laughed. Neville smiled a bit. He had always felt comfortable around Harriet, and she, him.

"It must have been hard to believe," Neville said, wiping his hands of breadcrumbs. "When you're parents came to get you, I mean."

Harriet snorted. "You have no idea. One minute, I'm cooking breakfast for the Dursleys, then I'm being taken to Hogwarts by my dead parents."

"Sometimes I wish my parents would do that," Neville sighed wistfully. That's when Harriet remembered that Neville lived with his grandmother.

"I'm sure they're watching over you," Harriet offered. Neville looked at her like she was mad.

"My parents aren't dead."

Harriet was confused. "But you live with your grandmother, don't you?"

"Yeah," Neville agreed. He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "My parents fought during the war. They were part of some secret organization. I don't know much about it. My grandmother doesn't like to talk about it."

"My parents don't like to talk about the war, either," Harriet admitted.

"One day, towards the end of the war, not too long after I was born, they were tortured by Death Eaters. I don't know what spell the Death Eaters used, but they went mad, my parents did. They're at St. Mungo's, now. My mum and dad aren't dead," Neville repeated, "but sometimes I think it might be better if they were."

"Neville-" Harriet protested.

"They don't remember me!" He argued, looking more animated than Harriet had ever seen him. "They can't do anything but lay about and say meaningless things and eat and sleep and it's not fair! I love them and it hurts to see them like that!"

He took a deep breath and Harriet shifted uncomfortably. Speaking more quietly, he said, "My grandmother tells me stories sometimes. About the stuff my parents did. And now they just-"

"They were so brave," Neville said abruptly. "They were so brave and I try to be, but I'm not. I'm not like them or your parents or even  _you or Ron or Hermione,_ Harriet. I don't know why the Hat put me in Gryffindor. My grandmother doesn't either. She tells me that every time I see her."

Harriet swallowed. She knew Neville's grandmother loved him, but she had met the woman and seen how harsh she could sometimes be. Harriet wondered whether or not she knew what she was doing to her grandson.

"You're wrong, Neville," Harriet said finally. Neville looked up at her. She pretended not to notice the tear tracks on his face. "I think you're brave."

"I do!" She argued. "Last year, during the whole dragon thing, you came looking for me and Hermione! That was brave, too! And you  _lied._ To Wizengamot. Not many people could do that. And you keep going, Neville, even with your parents not remembering and your grandmother pressuring you. I know how hard that is: I went through ten years with the Dursleys, but at least the Dursleys didn't care about me and would leave me alone. You don't get that, but you're still nice and kind and love Herbology even though your grandmother thinks it's silly and I think that's bravery!"

"I don't feel brave," Neville muttered. "During all of that, I never felt brave. I was always afraid. Afraid of being caught, afraid of my parents dying, -or living, I don't know what I want anymore- disappointing them, not making my grandmother proud."

"But you do it anyways," Harriet said firmly. "I get scared, too, you know. Scared that I'll disappoint my parents, that they'll send me back to the Dursleys-"

Neville snorted and she smiled a bit.

"I know, ridiculous. But I am! I'm scared of Volde- You-Know-Who coming back, and scared that I'm a parselmouth and should've been in Slytherin and that I'm gonna turn out like him. I was scared when I faced Quirrell, when I drove the car to Hogwarts, and when I partner with you in Potions," she teased.

Neville laughed.

"But that's okay," Harriet said after a moment. "I think it's okay to be scared. I think it might be good. It tells you when something is wrong. And it lets you be brave, because you can't be brave without being afraid, I think. I think courage is knowing that there're more important things than fear. Like family and friendship and loyalty and love. And I know that you know that, which is why I think the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor."

"So don't you dare listen to your grandmother, Neville, or your other relatives," Harriet said fiercely. "You're a Gryffindor and you're very brave. You might be one of the bravest people I know."

"Thanks," Neville said finally. He wrung his hands. "Don't- Don't tell anybody about my parents, yea? I mean, I'm not ashamed or anything, but I don't want their pity."

Harriet understood that better than most and agreed without even thinking about it. "Of course. I won't tell a soul. Not even Ron and Hermione."

Neville smiled, knowing that that meant a lot. Harriet said, "And Neville?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, about your parents, I mean," she said.

Neville never knew what to do when people apologized to him for that, especially since it was something that people just said when they felt they had to say something. Harriet, though, she understood his position better than anybody.

"Thanks," he told her again.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes until Harriet said, "So, how do we get out of here?"

Neville shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

Harriet frowned and went to ask if he had some sort of light that she could use to try and pick the lock when she heard it.

_Rip. Tear. KILL!_

"Did you hear that?" she demanded. The voice seemed to coming from the wall.

_Blood..._

"Hear what?" Neville asked blankly, still sitting glumly on his bucket. Harriet, on the other hand, had placed her hands on the wall and then, hesitating slightly, pressed her ear against.

"The voice!" Harriet said hastily. When Neville went to say something, she shushed him and pulled him over to the wall with her. " _Listen."_

He did, pressing his ear to the wall, too. For a moment, neither one of them heard anything. Then, Harriet heard it again.

_I smell blood. Warm blood..._

But this time, it was followed by an odd rasping sound, as if something- something  _alive_ was moving. It was getting louder. Moving towards them.

"Oh, god," Neville muttered, taking a step backwards. Whatever was in the wall was  _big,_ if the noise it was making was any indication. Harriet's hands shook as she continued to brace herself against the wall.

"Who are you?" she demanded. " _What_ are you?"

"Shush, Harriet," Neville asked, eyes wide. "Don't tell it where we are!"

Harriet ignored him. Firmly, she asked ,"What do you want?"

" _Harriet Potter..._ "

Harriet jerked backwards, eyes wide. Neville, who had been clawing desperately at the door, looked at her. "What?"

Harriet didn't respond, but walked back to the wall. "How do you know who I am? Who told you my name?"

_I want Harriet Potter. I want her blood and it is warm and I can_ **_smell_ ** _it! Rip, tear, KILL HARRIET POTTER!_

This time, when Harriet stepped away from the wall, she didn't go back. She almost tripped over the bucket in her haste to get to the door. She shoved Neville out of the way and pulled frantically at the doorknob. "It won't open!"

"Of course it won't," Neville said. "It's locked!"

"Sh," Harriet shushed. Whatever was moving in the walls had moved even closer. They stood quietly, not even breathing, back as far against the door as they could. Harriet's mind was racing.  She and Neville couldn't get out, but they couldn't say like this forever (obviously, they had to  _breathe_ at some point). Still, the odds of anybody finding them, when they weren't making noise, and after curfew, were astronomical. But if they were heard...

More movement behind the wall made Harriet's decision for her.

Harriet took a deep breath. "Neville?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember what I said about being brave?" Harriet asked. "That you have to act even if you're scared?"

"Sure," Neville said, shaking a bit.

"I need you to be brave now," Harriet said.

Neville looked hesitant, but nodded. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to do this," Harriet said, taking a lungful of air. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! GET US OUT!"

At first, Harriet was worried that Neville was going to stop her, but then he seemed to hesitate. After a moment, he joined Harriet, banging as loudly as he could on the door. Even that didn't seem as loud as the pounding of Harriet's heart in her chest.

The door was suddenly wretched open and Harriet and Neville tumbled out, both landing flat on their faces on the floor in front of them. Harriet scrambled up immediately and was faced with her mother and Snape, who were both looking at her with an expression of disbelief.

"Harriet?" her mother asked, obviously incredibly confused. Neville, who at this point pulled himself up off of the floor, was clutching at her legs, burying his face into her robes.

Harriet didn't say anything to her mother. She was straining her ears for the voice again, but whatever it had been, it was gone. She took a shuddering breath, ignoring the way her hands shook.

"It's gone," she told herself firmly. "Whatever it is is gone."

"What's gone?" Harriet's mother asked, stroking Neville's hair.

"The- the voice," Harriet said, voice shaking as she remembered. "In the walls- it was- in the walls. I'm not crazy! It was there! Neville it heard it, too!" Harriet added fiercely.

Lily looked down at Neville, who nodded slowly. "I heard something moving behind the walls," he sniffed. "I didn't hear a voice, but if Harriet says she did, I believe her."

"Of course she heard the voice," Lily said simply, not even thinking to doubt her daughter. Lily had never seen her daughter so terrified; if Harriet said there was a voice, there was.

"What exactly were you doing in a closet, Potter?" Snape sneered.

Harriet blinked and frowned, surprised at him. Then she remembered Neville was next to them and realized that this was Snape's only way of showing concern in public.

"Malfoy locked Neville in there earlier," Harriet said firmly, just daring Snape to try and let Malfoy off the hook for that one- especially with Harriet's mum near him, currently kneeling down and trying to console poor Neville. "I was walking by when I heard him and I accidentally locked myself inside."

"And the voice?" Snape demanded.

Harriet opened and closed her mouth like a fish a few times, not really sure what to say. "I mean- Neville and I were just talking and then I heard this voice coming from the walls. There was something moving- it was moving towards us and talking and when I talked back it answered me."

"What you say to it?"

"I asked it what it wanted," Harriet said.

"And what did it say?" Snape asked determinedly.

"Me," Harriet said softly. "It wanted me. Dead."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts- February 14, 1993**

Upon her proclamation, Snape had gone immediately to see Dumbledore. The Headmaster didn't think she was crazy, apparently, and nor did he fault her from keeping the information from him. Instead, new safety measures were to put into place. When Harriet told Remus that she felt bad for all of the fuss, Remus assured her that it was for the safety of the other students as well.  If there was something within the walls of Hogwarts, she probably wasn't the only one in danger. And the teachers were assuming that something was there. They had checked and checked and triple checked, but there was nothing to be found.

Still, students were not allowed to wander the halls. They had to go straight from one class to another, no detours. The teachers had yet to assign chaperones, but Harriet assumed that it would only be a matter of time. Thankfully, the other students simply assumed that the stricter measures were a result of the previous attacks on Colin and Justin and Nick, which meant that Harriet and Neville were spared anymore rumors.

That didn't mean that Harriet had been forgotten; most of the school still believed that she was the Heir of Slytherin, which was quite annoying. She began to avoid spending time with Isaura in public and instead spent time with her in the girl's dorm or at Hagrid's.

One person who still wasn't talking to Harriet was Hermione, who was still angry with her. Harriet had a feeling if she just apologized to Hermione (for what, she didn't know), Hermione would get over it, but Harriet's pride meant that she refused to apologize for something she didn't do. Harriet and Hermione did their best to pretend that they didn't miss each other, but Ron, who was still caught between both girls, knew that they did. He had tried his hardest to get them to apologize to each other, but, even after a month, it had come to nothing.

"Just apologize," Ron muttered as he sat down next to her at breakfast. Harriet shook her head and, upon seeing Hermione coming, stood up abruptly and went to sit further down, closer to Neville, who smiled at her.

Ron rolled his eyes.

Women.

The mood at breakfast that day was a bit more somber, as it had been these past few weeks, so Harriet was surprised when Lockhart cleared his throat. When all eyes were on him, he stood up and smiled.

"I have an announcement I'd like to make," Lockhart grinned toothily.

Harriet and Neville exchanged glances. Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Hermione (and about every other girl) sit up straighter.

"Because of the glum mood that has settled over Hogwarts, I have proposed a little treat to cheer you all up," Lockhart said. "And since none of the Professor's protested..."

"Notice how he said nobody  _agreed,_ either," Harriet muttered. Neville smirked, which quickly turned into an expression of confusion as a group of dwarves marched into the Great Hall. They all wore golden wings and surly expressions.

"This is not going to end well," Neville said, looking away as one of the dwarves glared at him.

He was right.

Lockhart's brilliant idea turned out to be as ridiculous as it was embarrassing: the dwarves, dressed as cupid, went around the school all day and delivered Valentine's messages. They interrupted class on numerous occasions, cornered students in public places, and were ultimately a nuisance

The one upside to the whole thing was when one of the dwarves, in the middle of History of Magic, cornered Professor Lupin and, in front of the entire class, read him a poem from one of his students.

_"I see him everyday in history,_

_but to him my feelings are a mystery._

_He's my favorite teacher,_

_and I adore his every feature._

_I try to pay attention in his class,_

_but all I can really do is stare at his a-"_

"Okay!" Lupin had said, quickly turning bright red.

Ignoring the snickers of the students, he ushered the now, thoroughly annoyed dwarf out of the classroom. He endured the laughter and teasing of his students for the rest of the day, but he made sure to shoot a Harriet a look that clearly meant,  _"Sirius and your father don't have to hear about this, do they?"_

Yes, they did. Harriet couldn't wait to tell them.

Harriet and Ron (Hermione was walking stiffly on his other side, neither she or Harriet making eye contact) were joking about Remus's embarrassment when it happened.

"Oi! Oi, you! Potter!" A little dwarf was making it's way through the crowd. Harriet's eyes widened. She grabbed Ron's hand and tried to pull him away, but he refused. He was loving this. Harriet glared at him, promising her revenge.

"Right, Potter," the dwarf said. "I've got a message for you, so shut up and listen."

Harriet shook her head. "No, no, no. Not here. Find me later. A lot later. A few decades, perhaps. How's my funeral sound?"

"I have to give it to you now," the dwarf said firmly. "It's a song, so I have to sing it."

Harriet didn't need to hear the song to know that it would not end well. Knowing that using magic in the halls would get her detention, but not caring, Harriet subtly pulled out her wand. Well, she tried to be subtle, but her wand caught on the strap of her bag and the entire thing went tumbling to the floor. Harriet winced from the loud clatter of books and ink while the dwarf completed some vocal exercises and finished clearing his throat.

Just as he opened his mouth to belt out the first line, Harriet whispered,  _Muffliato._

She had never used the spell before, but it became immediately obvious that it had the desired effect. Students stopped and looked around oddly. Some of them stuck their fingers in their ears.

Ron and Hermione both looked at Harriet suspiciously. She ignored them and stared at the dwarf, who, despite the noise that was probably bothering him, continued to sing- he was either determined to do his job or very hard of hearing.

_Her eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_Her hair is as dark as a blackboard,_

_I wish she was mine,_

_She's really divine,_

_The hero who conquered the Dark Lord._

Harriet was blushing bright red by the time it was over, despite the fact that nobody seemed to have heard. As the dwarf scuttled off, Hermione hissed, "What did you do?"

"Oh, so now you're talking to me?" Harriet demanded. She crouched down and began to put books in her bag. She grimaced as she picked one of them up. The pages were covered in ink. Hopefully Uncle Moony or Uncle Severus would know a way to clean them.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Only because using magic in the halls is likely to get you  _expelled."_

Harriet shifted uncomfortably as she stood up and clasped her bag, and Ron jumped to her defense. "Oh, you heard that thing! Which would be worse? Expulsion or dying of embarrassment?"

"Fine," Hermione said. Then, taking a jab at Harriet, snapped, "If you're so smart, Harriet, then maybe you could figure out how to undo the charm!"

Harriet frowned. She hadn't really thought of that. If she was lucky, a simple  _finite incantantem_ would do it, but maybe not. Some charms were safeguarded against it. However, before she could do anything, the Charm seemed to have stopped. Students shrugged- it wasn't the most bizarre thing to happen at Hogwarts, after all- and carried on.

Harriet turned to Hermione, "Apparently, it wore off."

Hermione smirked and looked over Harriet's shoulder. "Or McGonagall undid it."

Harriet's eyes widened as she slowly turned around. Sure enough, McGonagall was standing over her, arms crossed and lips pursed.

"Ah," Harriet said weakly. "Hello."

"Miss Potter," she said sharply, "Surely you know our rules on magic in the halls."

"Yes, ma'am," Harriet said glumly.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Out of plain curiosity, before I decide what  _exactly_ your punishment will be, what spell did you use? I am not familiar with it."

Harriet stuttered incomprehensibly. "I- I'm not- Ah-"

"Accidental magic?" McGonagall said, surprised. "It usually stops once students arrive at Hogwarts. Well, I suppose it is  _you,_ Potter, so it should be no surprise that your magical core is still settling, considering your background."

Harriet's nose wrinkled in confusion, but McGonagall shook her head, obviously thinking that she had said too much.

"Nevertheless, I think detention with Mr. Lupin tonight would be an appropriate punishment, don't you?"

Harriet sighed.

Remus was not going to be happy about this.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Detention with Remus- February 14, 1993**

Harriet walked hesitantly to the classroom door and knocked on it, sticking her head inside. Remus, standing over something at his desk, looked up and, seeing it was her, beckoned her in with his finger.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you here again so soon, Harriet," Remus sighed. "That's what? The third detention this year? And it's barely half over."

"Sorry, Uncle Moony," Harriet said sheepishly, sitting down. He shook his head and shut the book he was looking at.

"Don't apologize," he tutted. "Get out some parchment and a quill: you'll be writing lines today. One-hundred times of  _I shall not use magic in the halls_ should cut it."

"Yes, sir," Harriet said opening her bag. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of all her black books. Remus, noticing, walked over to her desk and took a look.

"My, my," he said with a chuckle. "What happened?"

"I dropped my bag trying to get away from a dwarf," Harriet admitted.

Remus smirked, satisfied. "Not so funny when it's happening to you, is it?"

Harriet glared at him.

"Finish your lines," he said firmly, conjuring some parchment for her, and a quill. "Then I'll see what I can do."

About two hours later (and an impromptu Patronus lesson, where Harriet did most of the magic, since Remus was tired, and did it rather well, too, although her Patronus had  _yet_ to take on a real shape), she and Remus were looking through her books.

His smile not diminishing, Remus had reached for the bag. "Let's see what we have in here."

Harriet helped him pull out her books, checking each of them over for damage. Remus reassured her, as the pile of damaged books grew, that he would be able to fix them for her. Harriet had resigned herself to the fact that all of her books had been damaged.

Then she came to the diary.

She frowned and turned it over, then flipped through the pages. It was absolutely pristine. It was clean as the day she and Hermione and Ron had found it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. If anything, it was cleaner, considering that it hadn't been laying on a dirty bathroom floor for several days.

"Look," Harriet said, showing the diary to Remus. He frowned and took it.

"Well, that's very odd," he murmured. "Where did you get this ratty thing?"

"Hermione, Ron, and I found it in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We tried to find out if it belongs to somebody at the school, but I think it's old, since I've never heard of the owner before. His name is Tom Riddle. Do you know him?"

Remus paled tremendously and Harriet's eyes widened anxiously. "Uncle Moony? Do you know who he is? Was he a friend of yours?"

"No," her uncle said vehemently. "He was certainly no friend of mine- or yours, for that matter. You should have brought this to me sooner.  _Why_ didn't you bring this to me sooner?"

Harriet had never seen Remus so worked up, so she was quick to answer. "I didn't think it was important. It's just a diary."

"Just a-" Remus said weakly. He shook his head and headed for the door. "I think this might be a bit more than a diary, Prongslette. I need to get this to Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore isn't here, remember?" Harriet said hesitantly. "He's off at the Ministry of Magic trying to get Fudge to repeal the Dementors."

Remus cursed and Harriet's eyebrows shot up. While Sirius and, on rarer occasions, her father had sometimes let swear words slip in Harriet's presence, Remus had never. Harriet wondered if he was incredibly stressed because of the approaching full moon. Although still early in the month, there was as a matter of fact, a blue moon approaching (two full moons in a month).

Combined with the stress of the attacks, it was no wonder he was so tired.

Remus came back to his desk. "Right. Dumbledore won't be back until tomorrow night. I'll put this in here in the meantime."

Remus locked the diary firmly in his desk and looked up at her firmly. "Under no circumstances are you to come and get this diary- understood?"

Harriet nodded, baffled. Remus sighed. "I'm sorry, Prongslette. I know this must be very confusing, but this is incredibly important and I just need you to trust me and be patient. Can you do that?"

Harriet nodded and Remus smiled at her. "Good. Now, what do you say to some hot cocoa before bed, hm?"

As Remus lead Harriet out the classroom door, locking it behind him, and towards his room, they both failed to notice the little grey rat hiding in the shadows.


	24. The Worst Day

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts Corridor, Hogwarts- February 15, 1993**

Harriet's prediction about finally having chaperones to take them around the corridors came true the next day. With Dumbledore away at the Ministry until the next day, it seemed as though McGonagall's nerves had finally snapped and she had felt it necessary to have teachers escort students to their classes.

After DADA (during which Lockhart assured the students that they were all perfectly safe with im around and Harriet rolled her eyes and passed notes to Ron and Neville), Professor Snape came to get them for their next class.

Harriet frowned and, as they walked swiftly through the halls, said, "Professor Snape? We have History of Magic next. I thought Professor Lupin was going to come get us."

The other students watched wide eyed, impressed at her daring.

Snape snarled. "Professor Lupin is incapacitated at the moment."

"But I thought-" Harriet began.

"What?" Snape said.

Harriet had been about to say that she thought the full moon wasn't until tomorrow night, but Harriet remembered how exhausted Lupin had been last night, so it wasn't too surprising that he was taking the next few days to rest.

"I thought that Professor Lupin was going to teach us about Hinkypunks today," Harriet finished weakly. Snape snorted as they approached the door to the classroom. He put the key in the lock.

"Well, clearly, he isn't. And I will decide what you learn today," Snape finished, swinging the door open.

Snape's face didn't change, but Harriet was close enough to see his hand tense on the doorknob when he took in the scene in front of him.

Harriet looked from underneath his arm and gasped. The classroom had been ransacked. Papers were everywhere, desks had been overturned, books tossed on the floor. The papers on Remus's desk were thrown about and the drawers were all open.

Without any hesitation, Harriet ducked under Snape's arm and ran to Remus's desk.

"Potter!" Snape barked, clearly not in the mood to be toyed with.

Harriet rummaged through the desk that Remus had put the diary in last night. Sure enough, it was no longer there.

"The diary's missing," Harriet wailed desperately, remembering Remus's reaction last night.

Snape simply raised an eyebrow and turned to the rest of the class.

"I suggest we adjourn for the day," he drawled. "I will escort you all to your common rooms, and you will wait there until further notice. Class dismissed."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts- February 15, 1993**

Snape had dropped the Slytherins off in their common room, then escorted the Gryffindors to theirs. Before Harriet could go inside, though, Snape pulled her aside and asked her about the diary. Harriet explained everything - how she and Ron and Hermione had found it, how it hadn't been ruined by the ink in her bag, and Remus's reaction.

Snape's face didn't change until she mentioned Tom Riddle's name, just like Remus. At that point, Snape all but shoved her into the common room.

Harriet scowled as the door slammed shut, muttering mild curses under her breath. Ron, who had been waiting for her, asked, "Blimey, Harri. What did Snape say to you?"

"He just wanted to yell at me for going into the classroom when he said not to," Harriet thought quickly. Ron nodded sympathetically as Harriet rubbed her eyes.

Hermione walked up to them and, making sure not to look at Harriet, asked Ron, "Are we supposed to wait here? Or can we go to our next class?"

Ron shrugged, obviously not sure, so Harriet decided chime in with, "I think we can just wait and see if a teacher comes to take us to our next class. If nobody shows up, we can just wait here."

Hermione sniffed and, not acknowledging that Harriet had a fair point, turned around sharply and left.

"Do you think she'll ever talk to me again?" Harriet asked Ron dejectedly.

"I'm sure," Ron said confidently. Then he looked a bit less certain, "Just try not to insult her again, yea?"

Harriet nodded and bid Ron goodbye as he went over to console Hermione. Harriet decided to go and see Neville, in the meantime, who was leaning over some sort of small, spiky, plant. She sat down next to him on the floor in the corner.

"What's that?" she asked.

He looked and smiled, looking truly happy, as he always did whenever he got to show off his knowledge of Herbology. "It's a cactus that my uncle sent me. It's called a Mimblus Mimbletonia. It's really rare! I don't think they have them at Hogwarts!"

"Are you going to show Madam Sprout?" Harriet asked. Neville nodded eagerly.

"Maybe she'll want to start breeding 'em," he said cheerfully. "They've got an amazing defence mechanism."

"Yeah?" Harriet asked, making herself comfortable.

"Yea," Neville confirmed. He handed Harriet the plant (which she took carefully and placed in her lap) and reached for his school bag. He pulled a quill out. "Look."

Neville poked the plant and, without any warning, it spurted out an incredible amount of a thick, sticky liquid. Harriet sputtered, trying to get the disgusting goop out of her mouth, and did her best to ignore the laughter of her classmates.

Next to her, Neville stuttered an apology. "I'm so sorry, Harriet! I didn't know it'd do that, I promise-"

"It's fine," Harriet said. She hastily handed Neville his plant and stood up. "I'm going to go wash up, alright?"

"Alright," Neville said glumly, no doubt thinking that his newly formed friendship with Harriet had come to a quick- and rather disgusting- end.

Harriet wasn't really in the mood to console Neville, though. She was tired, confused, scared, and, on top of it all, worried about the re-match against Slytherin tomorrow. Once she showered and changed, Harriet decided not to go downstairs. Instead, she made herself comfortable in bed and closed her eyes.

_Just for a minute..._

It was a sign of how tired she was that she fell asleep almost immediately.

_They were walking quickly down the corridor. They had just seen Dumbledore, and they had promised him they'd go right back to their dorm, but they couldn't. Not yet. They had one last thing they needed to do._

_They weren't going back to the orphanage._

_They weren't going to get caught._

_Not for this, not for the Chamber, not for anything._

_The Chamber? What do we know about the Chamber?_

_Shh, nothing. Nothing at all._

_They walked into the dungeons. The torches hadn't been lit, but they could see their way around. They had spent enough time here. They opened the door and stepped inside, then shut it carefully behind them, leaving it slightly ajar._

_From there, they could see everything._

_They wouldn't miss it._

_They wouldn't miss_ **_him._ **

_Who?_

_Hagrid._

_Why?_

_They needed to wait for Hagrid. They needed to catch him in the act._

_Act of what?_

_They waited. For at least an hour. But that was alright. They were patient and they were determined. They could not- would not- fail._

_Somebody was coming._

_Hagrid._

_They watched as he crept along the passage and then, once whoever it was had passed, they followed, as silently as they could._

_After several minutes, they finally reached a corner. They stopped suddenly, hearing a voice._

_"C'mon... gotta get yeh outta here... C'mon now... in the box..."_

_Hagrid?_

_Hagrid._

_They stepped out from around the corner, and there was Hagrid, standing in front of a door, trying to coax something into a large box._

_They announced, "Hello, Rubeus."_

_Hagrid- Rubeus- Hagrid. Hagrid Jumped._

_"What yer doing down here, Tom?"_

_"It's all over," they said, and it was. No more attacks, no more suspicions, no more orphanage. If they played their cards right, it would all be over._

_They continued, "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."_

_They got great satisfaction when Hagrid stuttered, obviously not sure what to say._

_"Now, Hagrid," they said placatingly, "I don't think you meant to kill anyone, but really. Did you honestly think that monsters would make good pets?"_

_"It never killed no one!" Hagrid defended._

_They knew that, but nobody else did._

_"Come, come," they said. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least thing Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered-"_

_"It wasn't him," he roared, standing in front of the door, trying to block whatever was in the room. They heard ominous pinching and clicking._

_They drew out their wand._

_"Stand aside," the ordered._

_Their spill hit the corridor and the large door flew open. It knocked Hagrid against the wall opposite them_

_Hagrid!_

_Good!_

_Is he alright?_

_I hope not!_

_He's my friend._

_No, he isn't._

_From the door, emerged the monster that Hagrid had been trying to protect: a hairy body, a tanlgle of black legs, razor-sharp pincers-_

_They raised their wand again, but it was too late. They couldn't stop themselves from being knocked over by that_ **_thing_ ** _as it scuttled out the room and down the corridor._

_They stood up as quickly as they could, ready to chase after it, but there was no way they could catch it._

_They had to stop it_

_They would need proof._

_They raised their wand again, but were suddenly knocked to the ground by a huge forced._

_"NOOO!" cried Hagrid, holding them down, reaching for the wand._

_They couldn't breathe, couldn't see._

"Harriet!"

Harriet awake with a start, Angeline Johnson standing over her. Harriet blinked and looked around. She was still in her dorm room, tangled up in her blankets. She looked up at Angelina.

"Are you alright?" Angelina asked.

Harriet nodded slowly. "I think so. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Angelina said. "I'd get ready soon if I were you."

"Ready for what?"

"Quidditch practice," Angelina told her, as though speaking to a small child. Harriet finally noticed that Angeline was wearing her Quidditch uniform. "You slept through dinner."

"I  _did?"_ Harriet said surprised.

"Don't worry, though, classes have been canceled." Angeline explained, pulling Harriet's uniform out of her trunk for her. Angeline placed them on the bed and handed Harriet a small package, wrapped in a napkin.

"I got you some food," Angelina said, before turning to leave. She called over her shoulder, "Hurry up!"

* * *

**Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts- February 16, 1993**

The tension in the air was thick. The crowds, heavily divided between Gryffindor and Slytherin, continued to shout insults at each other. Ron and Hermione were both incredibly nervous, worried about Harriet, not that Hermione would admit it at the moment.

Neither had seen Harriet since classes were cancelled the day before (Dumbledore had finally arrived back at the castle and the break-in in Remus's office had worried him more than was warranted). Harriet had been at a Quidditch meeting the night before, and then the same the early morning.

The school had all traipsed out for the match. Classes had been cancelled for they day, too. The teachers hadn't wanted to do it, but it was the only way to ensure the Quidditch schedule stayed on track for the end of the year.

And, Dumbledore had pointed out reasonably, after all of the troubles of the year, the students needed something more fun and diverting.

Now, all of the students and most of the faculty were huddled in the stands, waiting for the game to begin.

Ron spotted Hagrid and waved him over. "Hagrid! We're over here!"

It had became customary for Hagrid to sit with Ron and Hermione during Quidditch Games- only he normally didn't have several dead roosters slung over his shoulders. Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Hagrid? What's with the-?"

"The roosters?" Hagrid finished. "Found 'em dead on Hogwarts grounds. Somethin's been killing 'em off. Have ter figure out what."

"Something's killing the roosters off, you said?" Hermione asked suddenly, after a few minutes, her eyes shining with newfound realization.

"That's what he just said," Ron said, worrying for her sanity. "Are you sure you're-"

"'-alright?' I'm fine!" Hermione said, beginning to make her way away from the stands. "I have to go the library to check something. I'll be right back!"

"Wait!" Ron called. "What about the Quidditch match?"

"Tell me how it goes!" Hermione called over her shoulder as she dashed away.

Ron shook his head and turned to Hagrid. "Women."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts- February 16, 1993**

Harriet had listened only half-heartedly to Wood's speech. The rest of her mind had turned to thinking about her dream.

Her dreams with Riddle had already proven to be reliable- the Chamber had been opened before and Riddle was real. But did that mean that Hagrid had opened the Chamber? If Harriet believed all of the information from her dreams, she would have to believe that Riddle had murdered somebody in cold blood and was interested in splitting his soul.

Did that mean he could be trusted about Hagrid?

Harriet didn't know.

She desperately wanted to talk somebody, but hadn't had the chance. She would see Ron soon enough, she supposed, but this sort of thing wasn't his strong suit. He was much more suited to helping Harriet construct her wildly impossible plans, what with his strong affinity for chess. Harriet really needed to talk to Hermione, who, much to Harriet's chagrin, since she was still angry at her, was much better at taking random, insignificant pieces of information and putting them together to see the big picture.

To be fair, Harriet had done it, too, but only when under extreme pressure, like with an evil wizard trying to kill her.

 _There's a thought,_ Harriet mused,  _If the Professor's want me to get good grades, they just need to threaten to kill me, or sic a dragon on me._

A tap on her shoulder alerted Harriet to the fact that they were leaving for the pitch. Katie was looking at her, eyebrow raised.

"You were really paying attention, weren't you?" She asked sarcastically. Harriet hit her shoulder and hushed her, looking at Wood, who, thankfully, was not paying attention. He seemed to be having a nervous breakdown in the corner, and Fred and George were rying to snap him out of it.

"Lot on my mind," Harriet admitted.

"It'll all float away as soon as you're in the air," Katie encouraged, and Harriet smiled. She never felt as free as when she was on a broom. It was one of the best feelings in the world.

"Think we can do this?" She asked.

Katie nodded. "Of course we can. The Slytherins have nothing on us, especially now that you have your Firebolt."

Harriet clutched the broom in her hand tighter, feeling the smooth handle against her palm, just as Wood seemed to recover himself.

"You know what we need to do!" He said. "If we lose today, we're out of the running, so just- just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay! Now move out!"

When they walked out onto the field, the roar of applause that greeted them was deafening. The Slytherin team, dressed in their green and silver robes, were waiting for them, Flint grinned widely at Oliver, who was still looking a bit pale. Harriet, however, had her attention focused solely on Malfoy, who wore a satisfied smirk.

"What are you so happy about?" Harriet asked out of the corner of her mouth as the Team Captain's shook hands on Madam Hooch's orders.

"Just going to be a good game, Potter," Malfoy said. Harriet narrowed her eyes. Now she  _knew_ something was wrong, but had no idea what. All she could do was hope that Ron and Hermione were on top of things.

Madam Hooch chose that moment to announce, "Mount your brooms… on my whistle… three — two — one —"

Harriet didn't hesitate to kick her broom into the air, feeling herself rise higher and higher. Harriet may have loved her Nimbus, but she couldn't deny that the quality of her Firebolt far surpassed it. The broom seemed to read her thought, it was so sensitive to her touch. She didn't let herself get distracted thought: distracted Seekers didn't find the Snitch.

As she zoomed around the stadium, she did allow herself to listen to Lee Jordan's (always hilarious) commentary.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harriet Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship —"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" demanded Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —"

"Jordan!" McGonagall screeched.

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"

Harriet didn't pay any more attention to Jordan. She began to circle the stadium, searching for the tell-tale glint of gold. It was difficult, though, with Draco Malfoy continually flying in front of her and cutting her off.

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him as she was forced to swerve sharply to the left.

Fred, sensing her frustration, called out, "Show 'im your acceleration, Harri!"

He had obviously picked up on Ron's occasional nickname for her.

Harriet nudged the Firebolt forward, easily leaving Malfoy behind as she headed to Slytherin side of the field. Katie scored the first goal of the match. Amidst the applause, Harriet saw it- the Snitch. It was close to the ground, near the stands.

She dived. They were her speciality. Harriet felt the broom speed up, but didn't make any effort to slow down.

She was ten feet away, Malfoy scrambling to catch up, when a Bludger hit by one of the Slytherin Beaters and veered off course, pelting Harriet out of nowhere. Thankfully, all of Harriet's practice at avoiding Bludgers from earlier in the year, she narrowly avoided it.

It was only a few seconds, but that was enough.

The Snitch had vanished.

Ignoring the disappointed muttering of the crowd (or doing her best to), Harriet gained a sort of grim satisfaction when George hit a Bludger at the Beater who had tried to hit Harriet. The Beater (Harriet recognized him as a sixth year) was forced to roll midair.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Malfoy's Nimbus 2001 is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long —"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Harriet was beginning to get a bit nervous. Slytherin had scored enough points so that Gryffindor was only fifty points ahead. If Draco (by some miraculous chance) managed to get the Snitch before she did, Slytherin would win and her father would probably disown her (or send her another Howler, this time with actual yelling).

Harriet dropped lower to avoid one of the Slytherin players when she saw it- another flicker of gold, the hint of a flutter from tiny wings. It was near the Gryffindor goal post.

She shot forward, hand outstretched, when Draco suddenly blocked her. She veered out of habit, more than anything else.

Harriet wouldn't mind knocking Draco off his broom.

_At all._

It seemed Wood had a similar idea. "HARRIET! C'MON! YOU TWO CAN'T STAND EACH OTHER, SO ACT LIKE IT! KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM!"

Harriet shot a scowl in Draco's direction, annoyed because the Snitch was now nowhere to be found. She turned her Firebolt upward and soared above the stadium-

With Draco following right behind.

Harriet smirked. Well, if he wanted to mark her instead of looking for the Snitch himself, fine. Let's see whether or not he could keep up.

She dived sharply and Draco, assuming that she'd seen the snitch, followed. However, when Harriet pulled out of the dive, Draco wasn't able to keep up, and continued to hurtle rapidly towards the ground.

As Harriet rose, she saw the Snitch for the third time, this time on the Slytherin side of the field, by their goal post.

Harriet accelerated.

Below her, Draco did the same.

She was gaining-

Almost there-

"Oi!" called Draco from below her. "Potter!"

Harriet turned her head to look at him out of habit and gasped at what she saw.

Three Dementors were looking up at her, mouths open.

She didn't stop to think. Too focused on getting the Snitch, the pulled out her wand and yelled "Expecto patronum!"

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of her wand. Harriet didn't really watch, although she could see that it had shot directly at the Dementors, but she was too busy marveling at the fact that her mind was so clear.  Looking ahead, she could see that she was nearly there.

She stretched out her hand-

Her fingers closed around the Snitch, which continued to struggle violently in her grip, and, a moment later, Madam Hooch sounded her whistle.

It was over.

Gryffindor had  _won._

 _"_ That's my girl!" Wood yelled, kissing her soundly, before running off to celebrate with his friends. Harriet wiped her mouth as Alicia, Angelina, and Katie, all gave her large hugs, and Fred almost choked her with the grip he had.

When Harriet finally made it to the ground, the crowd engulfed her.

Before she could panic, though, Ron was there, hugging her and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her and jumping up and down.

"Yes!" Ron yelled. He yanked her arm into the air. "Yes!  _Yes!_ Hermione isn't going to believe this! She's going to be sorry she missed this!"

"What?" Harriet demanded, feeling her heart plummet to her stomach at the thought of Hermione missing her Quidditch game.

Ron shook his head quickly and yelled over the crowd, "No! No! Not like that! Harriet-"

Harriet never did learn what Ron was saying as the crowd separated them.

"Well done, Harriet!" Percy congratulated.

"Good for you, Harri!" Seamus beamed.

"Brilliant! Ruddy brilliant!" roared Hagrid.

As excited as she was, Harriet couldn't stand the chaos for long, and it was only a matter of minutes until she decided to head back up to her dorm to write a letter to her parents, and then rest.

As she struggled to find her way out of the commotion, she ran into Dumbledore, who looked oddly out of place in the large mass of students.

He smiled serenely. "That was quite some Patronus."

Before Harriet could ask if it was corporeal and what form it was and she couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of herself, the crowd once again pushed her away.

 _Merlin's beard,_ she thought.  _This is getting ridiculous._

Harriet finally made it out of the group of people, and took a deep breath, glad to be away. Ready to get to her room, she was stopped short again, but this time by a site that she wasn't sure she ever wanted to forget:

Crabbe, Goyle, and one other Slytherin who Harriet didn't recognize were all dressed in dark black robes, being reprimanded by Snape, who had an indignant Malfoy by the ear.

"What could you possibly have been thinking with this ridiculous stunt?" Harriet heard Snape hiss to them. "You are in Slytherin! I have never seen such a disgraceful act from anybody in my house in  _years._ We are  _Slytherins._ We are refined, we are cunning, we are resourceful. But, most of all, we are  _subtle."_

Harriet watched, delighted, as Snape lead them off, most likely to a miserable detention polishing cauldrons.

She smiled all the way to the common rooms.

This would go down as one of the most brilliant days of her life, she was sure of it.

 _Nothing_ could go wrong.

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Gryffindor Girl's Dormitory, February 16, 1993**

Harriet sat down in bed, a book on her lap to use as a table, and dipped her quill in ink. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she paused for a moment, not really sure what to say. She turned to Isaura.

"I don't know where to even start," Harriet laughed, the giddiness from winning the game not having waned.

Isaura hissed rom her position, curled up on the bedpost, but said nothing else.

Finally, Harriet sighed and began to write.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_We won._

_We WON!_

_GRYFINDOR WON!_

Harriet stopped again, not really sure how else to about it. Then she began to write a blow by blow account of the game, knowing that her father and Sirius, if he were to read it, would want to know. When she had finished describing how she had tricked Malfoy with a feint and gotten the Snitch, she began to describe the Dementor incident.

_Malfoy played a dirty trick though- he got some Slytherins to dress up in dark robes and pose as Dementors, because he thought they would scare me. He didn't know that I had been taking Patronus lessons with Moony, though, so it was on him when I made a Patronus and shot it at them._

_I didn't really think about it when I did it, I was too focused on the Snitch and winning the game, but looking back it sort of makes sense that the Dementors weren't real. I didn't feel sad or scared or hear any screaming or anything._

_Because they weren't real, I think I managed to get a corporeal Patronus! Or, at least, more so than I did when I practiced with Remus, since we usually use Boggarts._

_I didn't get to see it though, and everybody else was too busy celebrating to tell me what it was._

_Hermione probably would have told me, but we're still fighting. I don't really know what to do about that. I know I'm not supposed to tell anybody about Uncle Severus being, well, Uncle Severus, but it's hard sometimes with Ron and Hermione, especially since they know about me being a Parselmouth now._

_(Isaura says, "Hi," by the way.)_

_I'm not asking for permission to tell them (I know why I can't right now), I just wanted- I mean... I don't really know what I'm looking for._

_Some advice, maybe?_

_I miss Hermione._

_Ron is brilliant, and so is Neville, but neither of them are girls, and Lavender and Parvati are a bit too much for me, sometimes._

_Did you and Padfoot and Moony ever fight, dad? Or mum, did you ever fight with your friends? How did you get over it?_

_I miss you guys a lot. I wish you could have been here to see me play. I'll give Uncle Moony your love the next time I see him._

_Love,_

_Harriet_

Harriet finished the letter and, after letting the ink dry for a moment, she put it an envelope and sealed it. Thankfully, Hedwig was already there, waiting by one of the windows, no doubt guessing that her mistress would want to send her family a letter.

"Straight to mum and dad, if you don't mind," Harriet said politely, knowing that Hedwig could have quite the attitude on her.

Hedwig nipped her finger affectionately and then burst into flight.

Harriet sighed, feeling accomplished.

Then she noticed the loud noise coming from the common room. It seemed that the party had begun. Realizing that she wasn't going to be able to get any rest with the party downstairs (and after so many hours of Quidditch practice, she  _really_ wanted to rest) she gave Isaura a rueful grin.

"I better go join them, shouldn't I?"

Isaura hissed her approval and went back to sleep. Harriet shot her snake an envious glare before going downstairs.

She was greeted by a loud round of applause.

"Here she is!" hiccoughed one of the seventh years (apparently the twins had managed to smuggle in some Butterbeer, and Firewhiskey, for the older students). "The woman of the hour! Our heirone- no, heroi- savior!"

Harriet rolled her eyes at him and left him slumped over one of the chairs, in search of Ron, who was surrounded by several other second years, talking excitedly about the game.

"Harriet!" he grinned, pulling her over. She sat down and listened for a few minutes, simply looking around the room.

She waited until their was a pause in the conversation, and then nudged Ron lightly.

"Where's Hermione?"

Ron's face fell. "Oh- I'm sure she'll be here soon."

"She wasn't at the game, she's not here. Where  _is_ she?"

Ron pulled Harriet away to a corner, away from the festivities, where they could talk. Ron wasn't thrilled that Harriet had interrupted his celebrations for something so serious, but wouldn't argue with her.

Nobody paid the two of them any mind, assuming that they wanted to celebrate privately. They were close like that.

"She went to the library- but not for homework!" He added hastily. "She seemed really excited about something Hagrid said and rushed off. I think it's something to do with the Chamber."

Harriet nodded, feeling slightly placated. "It's funny that you mentioned Hagrid. I had a dream about him..."

She described her dream with Riddle in detail, trying to remember as much as she could. By the time she was done, Ron was shaking his head firmly.

"No, no, no. Hagrid would  _never_ open the Chamber." Ron said definitely. "It's something else. It has to be."

"Well, maybe whatever Hermione's found can..."

Harriet's voice died down in her throat because she had realized that everybody in the room had gone quiet. Harriet turned around and, standing by the entrance to the common room was Professor McGonagall, looking unusually somber for somebody whose's house had just had an important Quidditch victory.

"I must ask that you cease your celebrations," she said softly, in a voice that booked no argument. "And that boys and girls return upstairs to your dorms. There has been another attack. I will be up to speak with you each soon."

As Ron and Harriet turned to leave upstairs, a horrible feeling in their stomachs, McGonagall called them back.

"Not you, Miss Potter. Mr. Weasley," she said beckoning them to come with her. "You two come with me. You will want to see this."

Harriet's mind had already raced through a thousand different scenarios by the time the three of them reached the hospital wing, but none of them were as horrible as the one that greeted her.

Hermione, in a hospital bed, petrified.

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor Common- February 16, 1993**

Neither Ron or Harriet said anything for the longest time. Harriet kept trying to quell the awful feeling in her stomach that, despite McGonagall's assurances that a cure would be ready soon, she would never be able to talk to Hermione again, never be able to apologize, and that the last thing they would have said to each other were angry words.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked. Harriet shrugged. McGonagall was upstairs, talking to the girls. She had left Ron and Harriet downstairs for the time being, even getting them some pumpkin juice.

The two cups sat completely full on the table where she had left them, untouched.

"Hagrid," Harriet said after a moment.

Ron looked at her, confused. "What about him?"

"Hermione was talking to Hagrid when she learned something," Harriet said. "And even if my dream wasn't right, if you do the math, Hagrid was still at school when the Chamber was last opened. He might know something. We need to talk him."

"Tonight?" Ron hissed, understanding immediately what Harriet was thinking. "Are you mental? The teachers are on triple alert now. We'll never make it out the door."

Harriet nodded. "I think it's time to bust out my dad's invisibility cloak again."


	25. A Night of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe (obviously).

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Sirius, James, Lily, and Snape, Snape's Potions Lab- February 16, 1993**

Sirius and James watched eagerly as Lily and Snape prepared the potion. One of the Horcruxes - the locket, incidentally- sat on the desk next to them, ready to use.

When Lily had contacted him at the Ministry to tell him that she and Snape thought that the potion (the one to safely destroy the Horcruxes), James had not hesitated to grab Sirius and high-tail it to Hogwarts, claiming a family emergency to get out of work early.

Dumbledore, who had been safeguarding the Horcruxes, had given them one and allowed them to use his Floo to quickly get to Snape's home.

When they got there, Lily looked as excited as James had ever seen her. Well, maybe not as excited as she had been on their wedding day, or when she learned she was pregnant, or when they were going to see Harriet for the first time in years, but still.

She was very, very, excited.

As for Snape, he looked excited, too, but in his own way.

(In other words, his usual scowl had been replaced by a simple glare, which, when dealing with the Marauders, especially, was quite a feat.)

"Right," Lily said, looking to Severus and nodding. "I think it's ready."

Snape nodded and stepped back, allowing Sirius to pick up the Horcrux (he had found it, his brother had died for it, and he promised Kreacher he would destroy it, so this was his right, in a way) and dropped it into the cauldron.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the contents of the cauldron began to sizzle, then boil. A large puff of red smoke rose from it, and then, as quickly as it had started, it was over.

Snape reached into the now empty cauldron with a rather sour look on his face. The Horcrux was still there.

Slimy, yes, but intact.

"It didn't work," Sirius said despondently.

Snape, slightly annoyed that his potions skills hadn't been able to destroy the blasted thing, drawled, "Clearly."

Then, after a moment, he added, more to himself than anybody else, "It contained the Horcrux well, though, so there should at least be no problems in  _safely_ disposing of it."

"It's the actual disposing that's the problem, now," James mused.

"It's missing something," Lily said, sounding agitated. "Horcruxes can self-repair themselves, so to destroy them, you need something that will destroy them faster than they can be fixed. We tried using Aconite to do that, it being one of the strongest poisons in the world, but clearly it's not strong enough."

James, trying to recall some of his potions knowledge from back at Hogwarts, frowned. "But what poison is stronger than Aconite?"

Snape, face as unreadable as ever, said simply, "Nothing."

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor Common Room- February 16, 1993**

They had to wait several hours before it was finally safe to leave their dorms. Harriet had pulled out her father's invisibility cloak and met Ron downstairs. He looked nervous, his freckles standing out against his pale skin, but determined.

Harriet hesitated. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ron nodded without thinking. "For Hermione."

Harriet nodded in return and threw the cloak on top of them both. They crept to the portrait hole and opened it silently. It was difficult to avoid waking The Fat Lady, but not impossible and, though the cloak would protect their identities, there was nothing to stop her from mentioning to somebody else that the entrance to Gryffindor Tower had suddenly opened. Anybody who knew about Hermione and Harriet's invisibility cloak would be able to put things together.

Ron closed the entrance behind him delicately, his hand darting back underneath the cloak as soon as he was done. They each held their breath, waiting, but she just snored on.

Harriet and Ron shared a look, and began to make their way quickly to Hagrid's hut.

It was a moment like this that the Marauder's Map would have been useful, but Remus still had it.

(Harriet wondered how he was doing tonight, and what his reaction would be when he heard the news about Hermione- she could really use one of his hugs, right about now.)

They made it across the grounds and to Hagrid's door without any trouble. Harriet pulled the cloak off of them and took a deep breath.

She knocked on the door.

Ron and Harriet heard some shuffling inside an a crash, sounding as though something had been knocked from a table, followed my a muffled curse. A second later, Hagrid's face appeared. He looked serious, not wholly surprised. "What are yeh two doing here?"

He beckoned them in with a large hand, closing the door firmly behind him. Ron and Harriet didn't sit down yet. Harriet scratched Fang gently behind the ears.

"We need to talk to you, Hagrid," Ron said first. Hagrid frowned.

"I heard about Hermione," he admitted ruefully. "Knew ye'd be real' worried 'bout it. How is she?"

"Petrified," Harriet said tersely. "Hagrid, we know you were at the school when the Chamber was last opened."

Hagrid didn't seem all that surprised. He just chuckled ruefully. "Figured you would've figured it out soon 'nuff. Why don't yeh sit down, then? Maybe I can answer some more of yer questions."

Ron and Harriet sat down at the table, still trusting Hagrid regardless of what had happened fifty years ago. Hagrid had seen her parents grow up and was one of Dumbledore's trusted friends. There must have been more going on here than meets the eye.

"Alright," Hagrid said. "So what do yeh wan' to know?"

"Did you open the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago?" Harriet asked bluntly. She'd feel bad about hurting Hagrid's feelings later. Right now, she wanted to find out who had hurt Hermione. Hagrid, thankfully, didn't seem too offended.

Ron added, "And did you open it now?"

"No," Hagrid said firmly, "And o' course not!"

"Then what happened back then?" Harriet asked, taking him at his word. "Why were you expelled from Hogwarts?"

"Well," Hagrid sighed, settling into his seat, "It's a bit o' a long story, so yeh'd best-"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Harriet and Ron started at the knock on the door. Hagrid jumped up and peeped out the window. "It's Lucius Malfoy! And Professor Dumbledore! And- well, I can't make out the other two. Don' matter, though. Yeh'd two best hide!"

Hagrid didn't need to tell  _them_ that. They threw the cloak on top of them and huddled in the corner. Ron and Harriet held their breath as Hagrid opened the door and let in the guests. First walked in Malfoy, followed by Dumbledore

Then, Sirius and Harriet's dad.

Harriet's heart sunk to her stomach. This was not going to end well  _at all._

* * *

**Sirius Black and James Potter, Dumbledore's Office- February 16, 1993**

It was taking all of Sirius's not-insufficient self-control to  _not_ launch himself at his cousin-in-law. Again. In fact, replaying that moment again and again in his mind was the only thing keeping him back.

That and James's firm hand on his shoulder.

Lucius Malfoy stood smugly in front of them and Dumbledore, Umbridge simpering behind him, her hat sat at an odd angle at her head. Dumbledore stood stoically before them, James and Sirius at his side, the customary twinkle gone from the Headmaster's eyes.

Lockhart was there, too, although Sirius really couldn't imagine why. He was a bit useless.

"You listen to me, Lucius," Sirius said harshly. "You  _cannot_ kick Albus out of the school. You do that and there will be an attack everyday."

"I hardly doubt that," Lockhart offered. "I'll be here and I can assure you that the students will be quite safe with me."

Lockhart shut up when he saw James's and Sirius's glares.

"The school board feels that it would be for the best if Dumbledore were to vacate his position until these matters are resolved." Lucius Malfoy drawled.

"The Ministry concurs with these decisions," Umbridge added. Sirius had no doubt that this was a result of Dumbledore's success in removing the Dementors from Hogwarts (the decision from Wizengamot had come in only hours ago and the dementors were already gone from the grounds). It hadn't taken much to have Madam Bones rule the Dementors' presence from Hogwarts illegal (especially after she heard from Dumbledore's court testimony about how close they had gotten to some students) and Fudge was no doubt smarting from the sting and looking for a way to retaliate.

Dumbledore looked unconcerned.

"Very well," Dumbledore said finally. "If that is what the school board feels is best, then I have no choice but to comply. Professor McGonagall will be more than happy to take my place in the interim."

"Actually, the board has appointed me Headmaster for the time being," Lucius informed them.

James sputtered indignantly. "No. Absolutely not."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," Umbridge giggled, "But the decision is not up to you."

"Why are you even here?" Sirius asked petulantly, annoyed that for all their combined influence as the Heads of not  _one,_ but  _two_ Ancient Houses (not even considering the fact he was technically tied up with the Malfoy house, as well), neither he or James were in any position to prevent Dumbledore's suspension.

"I am here to arrest the perpetrator of the attacks," she said primly. "What are  _you_ doing here?"

"Forget that!" James sputtered. The Horcruxes were their business, not the Ministry's. "Are you saying that you  _know_ who committed these attacks?"

"Of course we do," Lucius said.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Yet you're still removing Dumbledore from his post?"

"Just because the attacker has been caught, it does not excuse Dumbledore's incompetency," Lucius drawled.

This time it was Dumbledore who stopped Sirius from attacking. "Do not keep us in suspense any longer: who exactly will be arrested for these attacks?"

"Hagrid, of course," Umbridge said triumphantly.

Sirius just laughed. "Hagrid! That's funny! Now please, in all honesty. Who are you arresting?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly serious," Umbridge said, her smile faltering. Sirius's grin dropped off his face completely.

"No, you can't be serious," Sirius said. " _I'm_ Sirius. Harriet being sent back to the Dursleys earlier this year was serious. You arresting Hagrid for the attacks? That's a  _joke."_

 _"_ He was at the school fifty years ago when the Chamber was first opened," Lucius drawled, "And was expelled for- well, that's private record. Regardless, we were simply waiting for Aurors to meet us, so we could go have him arrested and brought to Azkaban. But now that you two are here-"

"We would never arrest-" Sirius began lowly but James interrupted.

"Very well."

"Prongs?" Sirius asked, sounding just a tad confused. James pulled him off to the side and cast a charm to keep the others from hearing.

Lockhart frowned and said, "Oh, come, now! There's no need for that," but Sirius and James didn't hear him.

Sirius snapped, "You can't be suggesting that we arrest Hagrid!"

"Better us than anybody else," James said gently. "Hagrid _knows_ us, at least."

Sirius opened and closed his mouth, before finally giving a resigned sigh. "But it's  _Hagrid._ And  _Azkaban._ I know what's it like and Hagrid doesn't deserve to be there. Not for a day, not for a minute."

"You didn't deserve to be in there either," James said tersely.

Sirius's face darkened and, for a moment, James caught a glimpse of the man he must've been in Azkaban. "That was a different situation."

"I  _know_ , Padfoot," James muttered, "But it might buy us some time to talk to some friends at the Ministry- friends who know Hagrid well enough to know that he would  _never_ do anything like this. Hopefully, he won't be in there too long."

"James," Sirius said harshly, "You don't- You can't imagine. What it's like in there, I mean. All of your mistakes, your nightmares,  _everything_ played back in your mind over in over. A man's lucky he doesn't go insane after a day."

"You managed it," James said gently.

"Well, yes," Sirius grumbled reluctantly. "But I had you and Lily and Harriet to think about. I kept remembering you, remembering that I was innocent and that when you woke up, you'd get me out."

"Hagrid has us, too, and we need to  _tell_  him that," James said firmly. "And we'll get him out. You know we will."

"Fine," Sirius muttered, "But it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

James looked at him incredulously as he undid that charm. "Oh, and you think I am?"

"Well, if you two are done with your little chat," Lockhart said chirpily, "We can go ahead and get this party started!"

He laughed.

James scowled.

"We're about to arrest one of our oldest friends and take him to Azkaban prison," he all but snarled. "This is in no way, shape, or form, 'a party.'"

"Quite right," Lockhart said weakly. "My apologies."

Sirius and James each turned away without word, looking to Dumbledore for approval. He nodded and, together, the six of them traipsed over to Hagrid's hut. It was a cold night, James noted, and he wrapped his cloak further around himself. He and Sirius were to the back of the group, lagging a bit behind the others, where they would be able to talk unheard.

Sirius nudged him and nodded upwards at the full moon. "I hope Moony's handling his furry little problem alright."

James agreed. "Shame we couldn't go with him, but Lily and Snape apparently had some sort of breakthrough on that potion and had to try it out on the horcruxes, so Moony understood."

"He's got his potion now, too," Sirius said, trying to make himself feel less guilty about leaving his friend on his own. He knew that Moony had dealt with the full moon many times on his own while Sirius was in prison and Lily and James were in the hospital, but Sirius couldn't help but wish that he was with him right now and he knew that James felt the same way.

"Shame that potion came to nothing," James added, remembering the anticipation of watching to see if the Horcrux had been destroyed, only to find that it hadn't quite worked. Lily and Snape both seemed to feel as if they were missing some sort of key ingredient and, when James and Sirius had left them, they were hard at work trying to figure out what it was.

They had only been updating Dumbledore about the situation when they had been dragged into  _this_ mess.

"Well," Sirius said, trying to speak lightly, "Look on the bright side!"

"What's that, then?" James said grudgingly.

"For once, Harriet's no where near any of the trouble!" He announced.

James allowed himself to feel a bit better. "That's right! She's safe and sound, asleep in her bed. Hopefully she's not too worried about Hermione- Madam Pomfrey said the Mandrakes should be ready soon and Sev said that he could brew that potion in his sleep."

"Prongs," Sirius said after a moment's silence. His voice sounded oddly strangled.

"Yes, Padfoot?"

"Did you just call Snape  _"Sev?"_ " He asked, tone aghast. James stopped short in shock, realizing that  _yes,_ he had. Sirius, noticing Malfoy eyeing them curiously up ahead, tugged James along, breaking him out of his stupor.

The two walked in silence for another beat, when James said:

"Padfoot?"

"Yes, Prongs?"

"Let's never speak of this again. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

And that was the end of that.

They finally made it to Hagrid's hut and knocked on the door. There was some shuffling inside and James was almost positive that, through the window, he glimpsed small flashes of black and red-  _Oh, please let that be anybody else-_ before they vanished. He hoped it was his imagination, but by his raised eyebrow, James knew that Sirius had seen it, too.

Hagrid opened the door, wearing the look on his face that both James and Sirius recognized as the one he used when he was trying to hide something very important. Dumbledore nodded politely at Hagrid and then walked inside and everybody else followed. When James entered Hagrid's hut (it really was too small for this), he eyed it critically, looking for any sign of his daughter and her friend, but the cloak hid them too well.

"What brings yeh down 'ere?" Hagrid asked nervously.

"You can be at no loss, Mr. Hagrid," Umbridge simpered, "To know why we are here."

"I know yeh think I opened the Chamber, but I didn't," Hagrid denied, getting straight to the point. "I swear it t' yeh!"

"We don't think you opened the Chamber," Malfoy drawled, looking highly impatient. "We  _know_ you did. Fifty years ago, and then today."

Hagrid looked as though he were ready to throw Malfoy out the window and Sirius was sort of hoping that he did. Instead, Hagrid glared at Malfoy and then turned to face the two Aurors. He looked oddly hurt. "James? Sirius? Yeh know I'd ne'er do anything t' hurt Harriet."

"We know," James assured him. He didn't know what else to say, so he said it again. "We know."

"It'd be best if you just came with us quickly, Hagrid," Sirius added. "I promise you won't be in there long."

Hagrid seemed to finally realize where he would be going. He paled dramatically under all his hair. "Yeh- Yeh don't mean Azkaban?"

Neither Sirius or James had a real answer for him. All they could do was look at him apologetically. The entire thing was out of their hands. Hagrid looked desperately at Dumbledore. "Can yeh do anything, Professor?"

"I have already tried to tell the Ministry that they are making a grave and terrible mistake," Dumbledore said softly, "But they refuse to listen."

Hagrid looked so completely hopeless that James came incredibly close to just grabbing him and running away. They could hide him somewhere. The wards at Grimmauld Place were still up, from what Sirius said.

"Right," Hagrid said, trying his best to be brave. He nodded at Sirius. "Well, Sirius, if yeh could do it for ten years, I could do it fer a couple o' days."

Sirius smiled tightly.

"Professor, if yeh wouldn't mind checkin' in on Fang while I'm away," Hagrid said to Dumbledore, "I'd 'ppreciate it. He gets awful lonely."

"I would love to check in on Fang for you," Dumbledore said reluctantly, "However, I fear I cannot. I have been temporarily removed from my position as Headmaster, effective immediately."

Sirius and James (and Harriet and Ron) had never seen Hagrid so angry. He seemed to grow to twice his size and glared so fiercely at Umbridge and Malfoy that it was a wonder they didn't recoil.

"Yeh can't get rid of Dumbledore! He's the only protection this school's got!" Hagrid said fiercely.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore soothed, walking up to place his hands on Hagrid's shoulders. "It will be alright, I assure you. Hogwarts remains in capable hands. And-"

And here Dumbledore's eyes twinkled so fiercely and for the first time that night, so James just  _knew_ that Dumbledore knew that Harriet and Ron were here and he was speaking directly to them, telling them something important.

"-I am never gone, not as long as those who remain in the castle are as loyal to me as you. Help can always be found at Hogwarts for those who are willing to ask."

"Thank-you for those  _touching_ words, Professor," Malfoy sneered, "But I think we need to get down to business. Hagrid, if you will come with us..."

"The least you can do is give Hagrid a few minutes to get his things in order," Sirius protested. Malfoy scowled.

"And give him a chance to run?"

"Sirius and I will wait here with him them," James said hotly, sounding oddly like his wife. "The rest of you: out! That goes for you, too, Professor Lockhart!"

Professor Lockhart, who had been  _incredibly_ quiet since the entire matter started, looked quite disappointed with the proclamation (he had been enjoying the drama, it seemed), but seeing how firm James and Sirius both were, finally stood up from his position seated at the table and walked outside with Dumbledore, Umbridge, and Malfoy, bragging about how he himself had been to Azkaban only once, and that was to visit all the criminals he had been directly responsible for locking up.

Once the door firmly shut behind them, James took a deep breath. "Right. Harriet, Ron, you two can come out now."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hagrid's Hut, Hogwarts- February 16, 1993**

Harriet and Ron couldn't keep the indignant frowns off of their faces as they emerged from underneath the cloak. She demanded, "How did you we were here?"

Sirius looked insulted. "Us? We're  _experts,_ Prongslette."

"I think the better question is what are you doing here  _in the first place?"_ her father demanded, crossing his arms and looking at her questioningly.

Harriet felt guilty almost immediately, but thinking of Hermione made up her mind. Thinking quickly, she said the first thing that came to mind.

"We needed to ask Hagrid a question about a book."

"A book?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.

"A book?" Hagrid asked, equally confused.

"A  _book?"_ Sirius deadpanned.

"A book," Harriet affirmed. "Ron and I were reading this book- to keep our minds off Hermione- and we wanted to know how it ends and, since Hagrid's read it already, we thought we'd ask him."

"Right," her father said, sounding completely disbelieving. Still, he had no proof that she and Ron were doing otherwise, so he ultimately sighed and said, "Ask away."

"Thanks," Harriet muttered. "So, ah, Hagrid. How did that book end again?"

Hagrid looked a bit caught off guard and sputtered for a moment. He said, "Well, I wouldn't want ter spoil the endin' for yeh, now, would I? But I'll tell ya' this: the mystery is solved when the two, er, heroes- yup, that's it.  _Heroes_ \- follow the spiders."

"Follow the spiders?" Ron asked weakly. Harriet kicked him in the shin and he quickly cleared his throat. "Right. Thanks, Hagrid."

"If that's all then," her father began, but Harriet interrupted him.

"Are  _really_ going to take Hagrid to Azkaban?" she demanded. Ron, who was hugging Fang now, looked up at the two Aurors fearfully.

"We don't really have a choice, Prongslette," her father said gently. Harriet shook her head defiantly and ran to Hagrid, latching her arms firmly around his waist.

"You  _can't_ take Hagrid away!" she protested. Hagrid looked close to tearing up as he reached down to pet her head, muttering soothing nonsense to her. Harriet just clutched him closer until her father tugged her away.

"I know it's hard, Prongslette," her father said, pulling her in for a hug, "But I promise we'll get him out as soon as we can. You need to be strong, though, alright? For Hagrid."

Harriet sniffled and then nodded. She could try, but honestly! Between Moony and Hermione and Hagrid and  _everything_ it was getting to be too much for her. She had never thought she'd say say this, but she couldn't  _wait_ for this year to be over.

"Right," her father said, planting a kiss on her head. "Padfoot and I need to get Hagrid to the Ministry for processing-" Hagrid choked- "And you need to get right back to your dorms, understood?"

"We'll head right back," Harriet promised, but her father snorted.

"Nice try, Prongslette. I'll be sending you back with Lockhart."

"What?" Ron and Harriet yelped.

"We'll lose House Points!" Ron argued.

"It's  _Lockhart!"_ Harriet added.

James just shook his head and Sirius agreed, "We would normally be more sympathetic to your plight-  _really,_ we would- but considering the attacks, it's too dangerous to let you two wander the halls on your own."

Harriet tried again, "But  _Lockhart?"_

Even Hagrid, the man who had just been told he was going to spend the next day or so in Azkaban, looked sympathetic.

"Sorry, Prongslette," her father said, standing up. "Lock- Ah, Gilderoy!"

Lockhart popped his head into the hut and smiled. "What's all the fuss about?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Harriet, Harriet, Harriet! What are you doing here this late? And your friend- Reginald, was it?"

"Ron," Ron grumbled.

"Quite right," Lockhart said, not sounding apologetic at all.

"They came to visit Hagrid," Harriet's father said, thankfully not offering Lockhart any more details. "I can assure you that Professor McGonagall will be informed and will decide the proper punishment. In the meantime, I was hoping you could escort my daughter and her friend back to their rooms."

Lockhart looked slightly disappointed and Harriet had no doubt that it was because he wouldn't be able to take Hagrid to the Ministry, therefore missing out on any and all possible action, not to mention all of the reporters. However, it was such a  _reasonable_ request that he could hardly say no, could he? So, he nodded dejectedly and, with a wave of his hand, he picked up a spare lantern from Hagrid's table and lead Ron and Harriet back into Hogwarts.

Harriet originally had no plans to disobey her father.

_Really._

It's not as though she intentionally set out to get into trouble.

But as Lockhart lead them back to the Gryffindor dorm, Harriet noticed something very peculiar in a corner of one of the corridors: there was a line of spiders filing, one by one, through a crack in the wall and outside.

 _Follow the spiders,_ Hagrid had said.

Who was she to disobey him?

She subtly nudged Ron and nodded towards the spiders. He paled and Harriet remembered that he had always had a strong aversion to them.

 _He'll get over it,_ Harriet told herself, because she had  _never_ seen spiders act like that and she had seen  _a lot_ of spiders, thanks to her time in the cupboard.

"Professor," Harriet said, stopping short. Ron stopped with her, forcing Lockhart to turn around and fix them with a curious look.

"Yes, Harriet?" He said, still sounding incredibly petulant, no doubt none too happy about not getting to go to the Ministry.

"It's really not right that you should have to walk us to our rooms," Harriet said innocently. Ron, sensing where she was going, nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, Professor," he agreed. "You should be going with Harriet's dad and Sir- I mean, Aurors Potter and Black to the Ministry. They might need your expertise and stuff."

"It's my duty to see you back to your dorms," Lockhart began, but Harriet cut him off.

"We're almost there, though! We don't have to tell my dad- It'll be our little secret. If you run, Professor, you might even have a chance to change your clothes before you meet up with them. You don't want to look rumpled for the photographers, do you?"

Lockhart, an eager grin on his face, shook his head. "No. No I wouldn't. If you're sure...?"

"Yes," Ron said, shoving Lockhart in the back slightly and taking the lantern from him. "Now,  _go."_

Harriet looked amused as Lockhart ran off. "He really is an idiot. C'mon, then."

Ron looked slightly nervous at the prospect of having to follow the spiders, but didn't argue. When the reached the crack where the spiders were leaking through, Ron pointed out, "They're going outside."

"Right," Harriet muttered and, a minute later, the two of them found themselves outside again, trying to see by the light of the lantern. They split up, Harriet searching in one direction, Ron in another. Harriet gave him the lantern and went off on her own.

If she was going to make him look for spiders, the least she could do was make it a bit easier for him.

It was Ron that found the trail of spiders again.

He groaned, "I found them."

"That's good!" Harriet said, turning to join him.

"You won't be saying that when you see where they're headed," Ron grumbled. Harriet raised her eyebrows as she ran over to him.

"What makes you say that?"

"They're headed into the Forbidden Forest," Ron said, sounding a bit depressed. Harriet couldn't blame him. The last time she, Ron, and Hermione had ended up in the Forbidden Forest (serving detention with Draco Malfoy and Neville and Hagrid), Harriet had almost ended up being killed by Quirrell and had to be saved by a centaur named Firenze.

"Well," Harriet said, trying to sound optimistic. "It can't be any worse than what happened last time. Let's go!"

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ron Weasley, The Forbidden Forest- February 17, 1993**

It must have been well past midnight and Harriet and Ron were definitely feeling it. Despite the darkness that surrounded them in the Forest (even the full moon couldn't light their way, thanks to the thickness of the trees) and the adrenaline they were both running on, they both had to keep suppressing their yawns.

They almost lost the trail several times, but inevitably found it again. The spiders were headed deeper and deeper into the forest and the two friends followed them. They had long ago left the path through the Forest- the same path that Hagrid himself had told them to stay on the  _last_  time they were in the Forest.

"Where're they going?" Ron muttered.

"I don't know," Harriet admitted. "It's like they're running away from something, though. They're moving so fast!"

"Running from  _what?"_ Ron wanted to know. Harriet shrugged and looked to the ground. She frowned: the spiders were gone.

"Where did they go?" she asked Ron, but he didn't answer. When she looked up, he was as pale as she had ever seen him and shaking. At first, she thought his teeth were chattering, too, but then she realized that the clicking sound was coming from behind her.

Before she could turn around, though, she felt herself being picked up around the waist by something long, strong, and hairy. She gasped, but no sound came out as she found herself being carried-upside down- through the forest.

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust (she had lost the lantern when she was picked up), but when they did, Harriet saw that whatever was carrying her had eight legs (it was walking on six, carrying her with two) and, above her, Harriet could make out a pair of black pincers.

 _It looks like we've found the spiders again,_ Harriet thought.

Judging by the struggling sounds she could hear, Ron was no doubt receiving a similar treatment and she felt immensely bad for him. This was scary enough for her, but she couldn't imagine the terror  _he_ was feeling, being carried by massive versions of the thing he feared most.  Harriet felt all the blood rush to her head as she continued to be carried deeper into the Forest, Ron behind her. It took her a minute, but she finally realized that the ground was sloping downward. She wasn't sure how long they went, but eventually the darkness cleared and Harriet could see.

They had entered the rom of a large hollow, the ground swarming with spiders of all sizes. The light coming in was a result of the trees in the area that had been cleared away, allowing the moon and stars to shine through.

Harriet sort of wished she couldn't see, though. The spiders in the clearing were not normal spiders.

_Oh no. That would be too easy._

These spiders were  _massive,_ like the ones carrying her and Ron, but some even more so: there were spiders the size of babies, some the size of dogs, and most the size of horses. The one carrying Harriet brought her down through the crowd and down the steep sloe, towards a misty domed web in the center. Harriet was suddenly dropped to the ground, landing on her hands and knees. Ron wasn't so lucky: when he was dropped, he landed flat on his face. She stood up first, then hauled him up. He was shaking. Still, like her, he had the presence of mind to pull his wand out of the pocket of his robe.

"My wand!" his voice squeaked. Harriet risked looking away at the spiders to look at Ron's wand. Whether from the fall or from where the spider had gripped him tightly, Ron's wand was now snapped in half.

"I don't think that's our biggest problem right now," Harriet whispered. The spider that had dropped her seemed to be saying something, its pincers snapping furiously.

Then, it began to speak in a language that Harriet could understand.

"Aragog!" it called. "Aragog!"

Harriet had seen a lot of strange and scary things in her short life: Voldemort coming from the back of Quirrell's head, Dudley without any clothes (she was  _never_ going to forget to knock ever again).

None of them compared to this.

From the middle of the web, a spider the size of a small elephant crawled out. Unlike the other black spiders, this one was more gray, and each of its eyes were milky white. This spider was blind and old.

When he spoke, his voice seemed to reverberate throughout the clearing. "What is it?"

The spider who had caught Ron spoke this time. "Men."

"Hagrid?" asked Aragog curiously.

"Strangers," the spider corrected.

"Kill them," the spider said easily. It went to move back into the hollow, but Harriet finally found her voice.

"We're friends of Hagrid!" she shouted.

The spiders in the hollow clicked their pincers furiously and Aragog hesitated. "Hagrid has never sent strangers here before."

"Hagrid is in trouble," Harriet managed to say through her fear. "That's why we've come. He thought you could answer some questions for us."

"In trouble?" Aragog said.

"They think, up that the school, that is, that Hagrid's been setting a- a- well, something on the students. They've taken him to Azkaban."

The spiders did not seem happy about this. The drew closer together, tightening the circle around the two children, and more spiders began to appear from the trees and over the hollow. Harriet told herself not to look.

"That was years ago," said Aragog, the worried tone in his voice sounding oddly strange on him. Harriet didn't know that spiders could  _sound_ worried. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that  _I_  was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free."

"So you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?" Harriet asked.

Aragog seemed insulted by the thought. "No! I come far from the castle, in a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was just an egg. Although he was just a boy, Hagrid cared for me, fed me, hid me away in a cupboard. Alas, I was discovered and blamed for the death of a girl. Hagrid protected me, though, and brought me here. He found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness ..."

"So you've never attacked anyone?" Harriet asked.

Ron tugged on her sleeve.

Apparently he had also found his voice because he said, " _Harriet!"_

 _"Not now, Ron,"_ Harriet whispered back.

Aragog ignored the exchange and said, "Never. Although it is instinct to seek flesh- whether human or otherwise- my respect for Hagrid prevented me. He was a good master. I never wished to see harm come to him. The body of the girl who was killed was found in a bathroom far from me and the cupboard where I spent my life."

Harriet never thought she'd actually have something in common with a spider.

"Do you know what  _did_ kill that girl, then?" Harriet asked. "If you do- Whatever it is, it's back and it's attacking people again."

" _We do not speak it's name,"_ Aragog roared, the trees shaking. Harriet and Ron were shaking harder. "It is an ancient creature and is feared by spiders above all else. We dare not speak its name!"

"I've heard that before," Harriet said, narrowing her eyes a bit as she remembered Isaura's advice to her over Christmas. She didn't dare press the subject, though. She wasn't stupid. Harriet knew when she was outnumbered.

 _"Harriet!"_ Ron hissed again.

Harriet looked at him sharply. " _What?"_

Ron pointed around him and Harriet suddenly felt bad for not paying any attention to him before. All around them, more and more spiders were appearing. Harriet felt her stomach clench, the adrenaline from the new information fading.

"Right," she said desperately. "Thanks, then. We'll just go then."

Aragog looked amused. "Go? I think not."

"But- but-" Ron squeaked.

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Goodbye, friend of Hagrid."

He disappeared, but Harriet didn't bother watching. She spun around, wand held out, trying to figure out how many spiders were beginning to surround them, but she knew it would be no good. Even if she had known a spell to hold them all off, Ron's wand was useless.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and she and Ron huddled together, fearing another massive spider like Aragog.

Instead, the last thing Harriet could have possible imagined crashed through the bushes.

_Ron's dad's flying car._

Covered in dirt and vines and shrubs, it looked as though it had been hiding out in the Forbidden Forest these past few months.

"It's gone feral!" Ron exclaimed, as it crashed through several dozen spiders to get to them. Ron and Harriet wasted no time climbing inside and slamming the door shut. Ron put the car in reverse and slammed on the gears.

He did his best to steer looking over his shoulder, but it was so dark and there were so many trees and spiders and they were screaming so loudly- looking back, Harriet would admit that it was the car that had done all the work. Harriet lost count of the number of spiders they hit on the way out of the hollow. Finally, though, following a path that it obviously new, the car found a small cluster of bushes to hide behind, dimming its lights. The spiders march on past them, not seeing them.

Ron and Harriet held their breath, waiting, until it finally seemed safe.

"Thank  _Merlin_ for this car," Harriet finally said in relief.

Ron seemed in complete agreement. "Yea. I can't believe it saved our lives. I always thought it was a worthless hunk of metal."

Later, Ron would regret saying that.

The car, none too happy, about Ron's comment, revved its engines and the doors opened. Harriet had the distinct feeling of deja-vu as the car spat them out and sped away. Harriet and Ron sat up and climbed out of the shrubs they had fallen in, pulling twigs out of their hair. Harriet glared at him.

"Why'd you have to go and say that?" she demanded. Ron shrugged, unconcerned and began to fiddle carefully with his wand. Harriet didn't have the heart to tell him that it looked broken beyond all repair.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding all that sorry. "It's not like it matters, though, right? We're safe now."

Harriet took a look around her (to try and figure out the way back to Hogwarts) and then swallowed loudly. "You might want to rethink that last one, mate."

"Why?" Ron asked, still preoccupied with looking at his wand. Then he looked up and saw that the spiders had found them. They were surrounded.

Again.

"Oh," he said weakly. Harriet nodded. The car was nowhere to be found and more and more spiders were coming. She put her wand up, ready to go down fighting, but still knowing that it was basically hopeless.

Ron was the one brave enough to voice what they were thinking.

"We're doomed."

They were surrounded by dozens and dozens of spiders, alone in the Forbidden Forest with no car, no help, no one the wiser and only one wand between the two of them.

Harriet had to agree.


	26. The Answer to Tom's Riddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from the books/movies. I own nothing.

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ron Weasley, The Forbidden Forest- February 17, 1993**

Harriet was always told that when you were about to die, your life flashed before your eyes. As a young girl who had been in an impressive amount of life-or-death situations, Harriet could firmly say that this was not true.

In fact, really the  _only_ thing that went through your mind when you were about to die was something along the lines of:

_Merlin's beard, I'm going to die. Merlin'sbeardI'mgoingtodieMerlin'sbeardI'mgoingtodie..._

-which was precisely what was going through her mind right now as a giant spider lunged for her.

Harriet closed her eyes (she really rather not watch a giant spider rip her guts out, thank you very much), but instead of feeling the giant pincers of the spider around her neck, she heard a muffled thump, followed by a pained yelp.

Harriet risked opening one eye. Then she had no choice but to open the other, mainly because she couldn't really believe what she was seeing.

Remus had found them!

Or, rather,  _Moony_ had found them. He had apparently tackled the spider, stopping it from killing Harriet, and was no growling menacingly at it. The spiders, although desperate for a meal, we clearly not stupid enough to attack an angry werewolf at the height of the full moon, because they all began to scuttle away, and Moony let out a howl of triumph.

Harriet turned to beam at Ron, amazed at their luck, but Ron looked as though he were ready to pass out. That's when Harriet realized that yes, the spiders were gone, but they still had to deal with a werewolf.

If Moony had forgotten his Wolfsbane, then they were dead since he would probably kill them.

If Moony had not forgotten his Wolfsbane, they would probably have detention for the rest of their lives.

"Uncle Remus?" Harriet asked tentatively.

("Uncle Remus?" Ron muttered behind her.)

Moony, who had his back turned to her, turned to face her fully. Harriet held her breath, waiting for some sign that he  _hadn't_ taken his Wolfsbane, in which case she and Ron were going to have to run for their lives again. Instead, though, the werewolf adopted a look that gave Harriet the remarkable impression that, in his human form, he would have been scolding her for another one of her hair-brained ideas.

"We need to get back to Hogwarts now, don't we?" Harriet asked. Remus nodded. Then he scratched his ear with his back-leg.

"And we're in a lot of trouble, aren't we?" Harriet also asked. Again, Remus nodded.

"And you're going to be following us on our way back to the school to make sure we don't get into even  _more_ trouble, aren't you?"

Remus nodded and Harriet made a face. She took Ron's hand (he was incredibly pale, now, and incredibly confused) and together they began to walk back to Hogwarts. Moony had blended back into the shrubs, but Harriet had no doubt he was following closely behind them.

"That was your  _Uncle Remus?"_ Ron asked.

Harriet couldn't really read the tone of his voice, so she just said, "Yeah."

"Oh," he muttered. "Alright, then."

"Is it?" Harriet asked. "Alright, I mean."

"I guess," Ron said, but he didn't sound alright with it. Not really. "He's not going to-? You know..."

"No," Harriet said tersely. "I don't know."

"Kill us?" Ron finished softly.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I mean, no, of course not," Harriet said. "He's taken his Wolfsbane potion. He's perfectly sane."

"That's good, I guess," Ron muttered.

"Hang on," Harriet said, stopping short, and tugging Ron to look at her. "They mentioned it- that Remus was a werewolf- at my trial."

"They  _did?"_ Ron asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Blimey, mate, I guess I didn't hear. Me and Hermione weren't really paying attention. At least, I wasn't. I was worried about it, you know?"

"Right," Harriet said. It wasn't until they made it inside Hogwarts again that Ron spoke.

"It really is alright," Ron said. Harriet looked at him confusedly.

"I don't care that he's a werewolf," Ron said uncomfortably. "I don't think Hermione'd care either."

"I wish Hermione were here  _now_ ," Harriet said morosely. " _She'd_ know what Aragog was talking about."

"Follow the spiders," Ron grumbled. "Why couldn't it have been 'follow the butterflies?' If I never go into the Forbidden Forest again, it'll be too soon."

Harriet nodded. "We didn't even learn anything important. I mean, we learned that Hagrid was innocent, but we knew that already. It was no reason for us to trick Lockhart into leaving us alone."

"Is that so, Miss Potter?" McGonagall's voice came from behind her.

Harriet couldn't help but groan as she turned around. "Do we really have to keep making a habit of this, Professor?"

"Stop breaking the rules, Potter," the professor said wryly, "And we won't have to. _"_

* * *

**James and Lily Potter, Potter Manor- February 17, 1993**

"I cannot believe she lied to my face," James sighed, lying on the couch, his head in his wife's lap. Lily had received an owl early that morning from Remus, explaining to them what had happened the night before with Harriet and Ron. Sirius was still at the Ministry, but James had rushed him when his wife had contacted him.

"Maybe she didn't," Lily soothed, stroking his hair. She had received the shock of her life at Remus's letter, but then again, wouldn't any mother be horrified to learn that their child had almost been killed at the hands of an Acromantula.

James turned his head to look at her incredulously.

"She just so happens to ask Hagrid about a  _book,_ which is unbelievable enough as it is, where two characters meet some spiders, and then she goes off into the woods to  _meet some spiders_ and it all turns out to be a coincidence?"

Lily didn't have answer for this.

James couldn't help but be a bit put out. "You don't seem overly concerned that our daughter seems to be making a habit of lying to us and then going off and doing stupidly dangerous things."

"Of course I'm concerned," Lily protested, "But she's twelve! I know for a fact that you lied to your parents and got into trouble at that age, as well."

"I was a model child," James sniffed imperiously, failing to keep a straight face when Lily snorted. "And when I did it, it was to do  _normal, childish,_ things, like pranking and skipping class. When Harriet does it, she usually ends up in the Hospital Wing and I don't understand why she just doesn't trust us like children are  _supposed_ to trust their parents and  _how_ are you so calm about this?"

By the end of his rant, James was talking rather loudly and quite fast, too. Lily shushed him. "She  _does_ trust us, but the Dursleys-"

"Oh, not them again," James muttered half-heartedly.

"Severus was always wary of adults when we were at Hogwarts," Lily said instead. "Why do you think he never reported you and your friends for all your ridiculous stunts?"

"Pride," James admitted after a moment.

Looking back, he knew that he and Sirius and Remus and  _Peter_ had done some nasty things to Snape and while Snape had hardly sat down and taken it, James knew that Snape may have turned out a completely different man if it hadn't been for the things he and his friends had done. Of course, Snape had been strange long before James and his friends had done anything, and as he got older, James began to suspect that not everything had been alright with Snape's home-life, but he still felt very strange hearing Lily essentially confirm it.

He sat up slowly and looked at her. "Is that why you wanted him to be a part of Harriet's life?"

Lily frowned. "I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't  _part_ of it. I just thought, when she gets older, she might appreciate having somebody to talk to."

"Sirius's home life was hardly perfect," James said after a moment. "She could talk to him."

"She could," Lily agreed. "But two ears are better than one, aren't they?"

"Technically, it'd be four ears-" James began, and Lily cut him off, laughing. He laughed, too. "What? It's true! You're the one who got it wrong!"

They quieted for another moment. Then James snorted to himself.

"What's so funny?" Lily asked, smiling.

"They never covered this in those parenting books."

Lily hit him over the head with her pillow.

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ron Weasley, History of Magic Classroom - February 17, 1993**

This was the second time Harriet and Ron found themselves in Remus's room after dinner for detention. This time it was for breaking curfew  _and_ going into the Forbidden Forest. They sat doing lines (again) with Remus grading papers from his desk, glancing up at them occasionally. He looked exhausted and there was a deep scratch on his cheek, which thankfully looked like it was healing nicely.

Harriet still felt very guilty. She raised her hand to get Remus's attention. He looked up at her over his glasses.

"Yes, Harriet?"

"Is your face okay?" Harriet asked bluntly. Ron looked up from his parchment, feeling guilty, too.

"It's perfectly fine," Remus assured them both.

"We're sorry you got hurt," Ron muttered, looking down sheepishly. He had apparently gotten over his shock at Remus's lycanthropy, much to Harriet's relief.

"I'd do it again," Remus said simply, "If it meant keeping you two safe."

Harriet and Ron beamed at him.

He continued by saying, "Merlin help any man who had to tell  _your_ mothers that you had gotten hurt. They'd hex me into an early grave."

"That's my wife you're talking about, Professor," tutted a voice from the door. Harriet turned to see her father walking towards them, looking extremely exhausted, but otherwise amused. Harriet was confused.  _Why_ was he here?

"She spent your first six years at Hogwarts cursing you, Prongs," Remus drawled. "You can hardly deny that I'm right."

"I'm not denying anything," Harriet's father shrugged. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Remus asked, going back to grading his papers.

"I had a few questions for Harriet and Ron," her father said, "As a Ministry official and as a father."

"Questions?" Ron asked, wide-eyed. "About what?"

"About the giant spiders you encountered in the woods last night, for one thing," Harriet's dad answered, pulling up a chair from one of the desks and sitting down. Harriet and Ron couldn't help but shoot accusing looks at Remus, annoyed that he had told on them.

"I'm sorry," Remus chuckled, no doubt guessing what they were thinking. "I was just doing my job."

"You should consider yourselves lucky that a detention is all you'll be getting," James reprimanded. Harriet looked down guiltily. "You could've gotten yourselves killed! I mean, what were you thinking, going off into the woods like that? Especially  _after_ you told me that you were going back to your dorms."

"I'm sorry," Harriet muttered.

"You should be," her father retorted. Harriet flinched and then her dad sighed, running his hands over his face. "Just- tell me. Why did you go into the Forbidden Forest?"

Harriet opened and closed her mouth, not really sure when to start, when Ron answered for her. "We wanted to know about the Chamber of Secrets and we figured out that Hagrid would've had to have been here the last time it was opened, so we went to ask him about it."

Harriet nodded. "That's when you showed up and he told us to go follow the spiders."

"I knew he wasn't talking about a book," James said drily. Harriet shrugged.

"We didn't know it would be that dangerous, honest," Harriet said eagerly. "Hagrid never would've told us to do it if he thought Aragog and his family would hurt us."

" _Aragog?"_ her father said incredulously. "What? You're on a first name basis with some of those spiders now?"

"He was sort of nice," Harriet muttered.

"Yeah, he was," Ron agreed. "Aside from the fact that he wanted to eat us."

"I'm sure," Remus piped up drily.

His friend smiled a bit and then turned back to his daughter. "Did  _Aragog_ or his family say anything useful about the Chamber?"

"No," Harriet said immediately, eager to tell her father the truth. It had been eating her up inside, keeping things from him and mum, like it always did. "I mean- not really. He spoke in a lot of riddles."

"He said something about how they never spoke the monster's name," Ron said, trying to remember, "And that it was really old."

"He said something else, too," Harriet frowned, "But I can't remember what it was..."

"That's alright," her father assured them. "Thank-you."

He stood up. "I should be going. Sirius is waiting for me. We have a long night ahead of us."

He made for the door, but Harriet followed after him. "Wait!"

He turned. "Yes?"

"I am sorry, dad," she muttered, meeting his eyes, and then looking down, finding her shoes very interesting all of a sudden.

Her father walked over to her and knelt down so he could be closer to her level. He nudged her chin to get her to look at him. He smiled gently. "I know you are, Prongslette."

James kissed his daughter's forehead, then stood up. He winked at her as he left, this time, making her smile slightly.

After he left, though, Harriet couldn't shake the glum feeling that had taken hold of her. Before, she would've talked through it with Hermione, but Hermione wasn't here and, as much as she loved Ron, he wasn't really a "feelings" sort of person.

"Uncle Remus?" Harriet asked, sitting back down.

Remus looked up at her. "Yes?"

"Do you think after- I mean, once detention is over- before you take me and Ron-"

"'Ron and I,'" Remus corrected idly.

"Right. Before you take Ron and  _I_ back to our dorms, do you think you could take us down to the hospital wing?"

"What for?" Her uncle asked, sitting up straighter, looking her over critically. Worriedly. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Harriet denied. Ron was giving her a look that explained that he clearly had no idea what she was doing either. "I just- I just wanted to see Hermione."

Ron's face brightened at this proclamation and he nodded eagerly. Clearly he had wanted to go see Hermione, too. Harriet couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. She had almost forgotten that Ron was Hermione's friend, too. She had been too busy feeling sorry for  _herself_ and the argument she and Hermione had had that she had neglected to realize that Ron was as worried about Hermione as she was.

They had explored Hogwarts looking for the monster and talked about who could be the Heir and why her family was acting so strangely, but never had they talked about Hermione and what had happened to her. Harriet knew that Ron was rarely one to discuss his feelings and neither was she. They generally relied on  _Hermione_ to force them to talk things out and with her gone, Harriet hadn't bothered to try doing it, even though she knew Ron would  _never_ be the one to bring up the topic.

Harriet made a note to talk to Ron later.

"Oh," Remus said, frowning contemplatively. He looked sympathetic as she said, "I'm not sure-"

"C'mon, Professor," Ron wheedled, before hastily adding, "Please."

Remus never appreciated whinging.

Harriet added, "We just want to talk to her."

"She won't be able to here you," Remus said, hesitantly, but Harriet could see that he was wavering. Remus knew the loneliness of the hospital wing. He had spent a fair share of nights there after the full moon, under Madam Pomfrey's watchful care. Harriet knew that her father and Sirius and Peter used to sneak into visit him all the time, though, and what those visits meant to him.

"I just don't want her to feel like she was alone," Harriet explained, "When she wakes up, I mean."

Ron looked at Remus hopefully as he sighed and rubbed his face. Finally, he cracked a smile and chuckled a bit.

Harriet and Ron exchanged glances, not sure if this was a promising development or a worrisome one.

"What?" They demanded.

Harriet's Uncle Moony said, "I suppose I should be grateful that you're asking me permission and not sneaking off on your own."

"Does this mean you'll take us?" Harriet asked hopefully.

Remus nods. "I will. As  _soon_ as you finish your lines."

Harriet and Ron began scribbling furiously, as though a fire had been lit under them, and Remus couldn't help but myself to himself.

He had a good feeling that no matter what happened, those three- Harriet, Ron, and Hermione- would be alright.

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ron Weasley, Hospital Wing - February 17, 1993**

When the reached the Hospital Wing, Remus had left Harriet and Ron alone with Hermione. He told them to tell Madam Pomfrey when they were done, so she could send for him, for another teacher. Then he had closed the curtains around the bed and left them with their friend.

"Er, hello, Hermione," Ron said awkwardly, not really sure where to start. Harriet was quiet for a minute.

Finally, she said, "We miss you."

"We do," Ron agreed. "We miss you a whole lot."

It wasn't anything like what Hermione usually pushed him to say when he was upset, but hearing Ron admit that he missed Hermione, too, made Harriet feel oddly better about the whole situation. Suddenly, she didn't feel so alone.

Not in this.

There was something else Harriet had to say, though.

"I'm sorry about our argument," she said. "Looking back, it's a bit silly, isn't it? I mean, you're right, you  _are_ smarter than me. I guess I just- I don't know."

Ron didn't say anything, but when she met his eyes, he nodded encouragingly. He clearly wanted Harriet and Hermione to be friends again and apologize (even if one of them was petrified during the apology.) Harriet couldn't bear to finish, though, not while Hermione was still hurt. It felt too much like saying goodbye and she  _shouldn't_ be saying goodbye, not when Madam Pomfrey had assured them both that Hermione would be awake soon and everybody would be all right.

"Forget it," Harriet said suddenly. Ron frowned.

"Harriet-"

"No," Harriet said firmly. She turned to Hermione and said firmly, "You're going to get better soon and when you're awake and up to it, we'll talk. Alright? But I'm not going to sit here and talk to you like you're one moment away from dying. We  _both_ have apologizing to do, not just me, and when the time comes, we'll do it. You hear?"

When Harriet finished, she almost expected Hermione to respond.

_"Alright, Harriet," she'd say. "We'll talk."_

_Then she'd get out of bed and tut disapprovingly. "Honestly, though, did you have to choose now to do it? I was having a very pleasant dream where I had just been named a Gryffindor prefect."_

But of course, none of that happened.

Hermione didn't wake up. She didn't get annoyed with Harriet's (often awful) timing. She didn't say anything about dreaming about being a prefect.

She was just  _there._

For a moment, neither Ron or Harriet said anything. Instead, they just stood by the bed, looking at Hermione. She hadn't moved since the last time they saw her: her face still had the same expression, one of her hands lay on the bed next to her.

The other reached out in front of her face, her fingers clenched as though she were still clutching the mirror she had held when she was attacked.

When McGonagall had asked her why Hermione had been wandering through the halls with a mirror, Harriet had answered that she honestly had no idea.

She still didn't.

Harriet reached for the mirror (anything to distract herself from the horrible sight of Hermione in the hospital bed), which had been placed on the bedside table, and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. She looked over at Ron, who was staring Hermione, almost as still as she was. "Why do you think she had the mirror?"

Ron finally looked up, startled, and took a moment to think over Harriet's question. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, you're a girl, aren't you?"

"Either that or I've been wearing the wrong kind underwear for the past twelve years," Harriet said drily.

"Well," Ron said, blushing at the mention of Harriet's underwear, "Don't girls like mirrors? To check their makeup and hair and- or something?"

"Maybe, but this is  _Hermione,_ " Harriet insisted. "She'd never do something so ridiculous- I mean, look!"

Harriet positioned the mirror as it would have looked when Hermione had been holding it. Ron shook his head, clearly still not understanding.

"She was holding the mirror like this when she was attacked!" Harriet explained, feeling as though she was onto something. "She was looking  _into_ it as she walked. Why would anybody do that?"

Ron looked more baffled than ever. "I have no idea."

After a moment he added, "The other girl they found- the one with Hermione- she was doing it, too, wasn't she?"

Harriet nodded, looking in direction of the aforementioned girl's cot, even though she couldn't see anything through the thick curtain surrounding them. After a second, she looked back at Hermione.

"I wish Hermione would wake up so she could tell us what happened."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Do you think she ever saw her attacker?"

"I hope so," Harriet muttered.

"If she didn't," Ron noted, "Nobody will know what happened. They might have to close the school down because we'd be right back where we started."

"Not  _right_ back," Harriet corrected, arranging Hermione's sheets a bit. "I mean, we heard some things from Aragog, didn't we?"

"Sure," Ron said dismissively. "We know that the monster is old and that spiders are afraid of it and that a girl died when the Chamber was opened fifty years ago-"

"That's what I forgot to tell my dad!" Harriet said suddenly.

"It's not like it helps, mate," Ron said, baffled, but Harriet wasn't listening.

Aragog hadn't only said that the girl had died fifty years ago, but that she had died in the bathroom. What if Moaning Myrtle-? Harriet knew that it was a long-shot. Really, she knew. But she also knew that it had been a long-shot thinking that her parents were going to come back from the dead and rescue her and that had happened. She explained her theory to Ron: that girl in the bathroom had been killed by the monster and-

"What if she never left?" Harriet finished, looking at Ron excitedly. Ron's eyes widened as he caught on.

"You think it's  _Myrtle?"_

"Maybe," Harriet said hesitantly. "I mean, it fits."

"But," Ron protested, his face screwing up, "It's  _Myrtle._ Do you honestly think that somebody so- I mean, she's hardly-"

"But what if it's true?" Harriet demanded. "She might've seen the monster!"

"That'd be great," Ron said enthusiastically, "Except you're forgetting one small, unimportant detail."

"What's that, then?" Harriet asked, trying to remember what it was that she had apparently forgotten.

"How're we going to find out about Myrtle if nobody is allowed around Hogwarts unsupervised. Let  _alone_ by the girl's bathroom near where the first attack happened. They've got that place under twenty-four hour watch."

But Harriet had stopped listening again, instead she had focused in on Hermione's other hand, wondering how she hadn't noticed before. Ron, noticing her gaze, followed it, and instantly saw what she saw. He, however, had the courage to gently pry Hermione's fingers from the paper. Harriet moved closer to read over his shoulder. It was a page torn from a book, all about basilisks.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "It's not like Hermione to destroy a perfectly nice book."

"No, Ron, read it!" She shoved the paper into his hands, explaining as he looked it over: "The monster is a basilisk! It explains everything! The spiders, the roosters... _everything."_

Ron frowned. "But it says that people die when they look into the eyes of the basilisk. Nobody's died, Harri."

Harriet had to think for a moment. Finally, she said triumphantly, "That's because nobody has looked at it directly! Mrs. Norris saw it through the water, Justin saw it through Nick. Nick got the full blast, but he's-"

"Already dead," Ron finished for her. "And Hermione figured out it was a basilisk, which is why she had mirror! She must've warned the other girl to carry one, too."

"How's it getting around, though?" Harriet muttered. "I mean, a giant basilisk, you'd think somebody noticed."

Ron pointed at Hermione's neat writing at the top of the page.

_PIPES._

"It's using the pipes!" Harriet said excitedly. "That explains why I've been hearing voices in the walls! A basilisk is a giant snake!"

"And the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. "What if it's in the bathroom? Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!"

Harriet and Ron didn't say anything, simply bristling with excitement.

Finally, Ron asked, "But who's the Heir of Slytherin?"

"I don't know," Harriet said hotly, annoyed that he had gone ahead and rained on her parade.

More silence.

"So what do we do now?"

"We do what we should've been doing all along," Harriet said firmly, after a minute. "We tell Remus, and he can sort it out with Dumbledore and McGonagall and my dad and whoever else he's been working with."

"Alright," Ron said slowly. "We can have Madam Pomfrey get him, I suppose."

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps outside. Somebody was running towards the hospital wing. The footsteps were followed by the sound of the door to the hospital wing slamming open.

" _Mr. Lupin,"_ Madam Pomfrey hissed quietly, as though scolding a young child and  _not_ a professor at the school. "What do you think you're-"

Neither Harriet or Ron could hear what Remus said to her since he was whispering, but whatever it was, it must have been important, since Madam Pomfrey instantly quieted.

Harriet and Ron managed to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Come quickly..."

"...happened?"

"The Chamber...corridor..."

"...you know... opened?"

"...message...blood..."

This odd exchange was followed by the sound of more pounding footsteps as Remus and (presumably) Madam Pomfrey left. Ron stuck his head out from between the curtains, looking incredibly indignant.

"They just left us here!" he scowled. "After all the trouble we've caused, all of the lectures we've gotten on not going anywhere alone, they just left us here! On our own! We could be monster food by now!"

"Stop complaining, Ron," Harriet said. "Just- wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm following them," Ron said, as if it should've been obvious.

"Remus told us to stay here..." Harriet muttered, but she began to follow him out the Hospital Wing, being careful to stay out of sight.

"Since when are you the voice of reason?" Ron asked. Then, seeing his friend's doubt, he added, "Look, the way I reckon, it's safer with them anyway, right? They told us not to go anywhere unsupervised, after all."

"I guess so," Harriet said, but then quieted, her and Ron ducking behind a tapestry to avoid being seen. Remus and Madam Pomfrey continued to walk swiftly ahead of them.

"They're heading towards the staffroom," Harriet muttered. Ron started to tug her in another direction.

"I know a short-cut," Ron whispered. He rolled his eyes affectionately. "Hermione showed it to me."

Ron lead Harriet through a winding series of corridors. She tried to keep track of where she was going, but she finally gave up and trusted Ron. It was clear that he had done this before and knew his way around. She asked him about it.

"Like I said, Hermione brought me this way a bunch of time so she could ask teachers about grades and stuff," Ron explained. Sure enough, they reached the staffroom ahead of Remus and Madam Pomfrey.

Ron opened the door and peered inside. It was empty. The other professors must still be on their way. Harriet, spotting an old wardrobe, pulled Ron towards it and inside. They were met with a closet-full of robes, no doubt the professors'. They closed the door behind themselves just in time. Remus and Madam Pomfrey entered the room, followed by Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor Snape.

"As I'm sure you are all aware, it's finally happened. A student has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets."

"How did you find out?" Snape asked, as cool as ever. The only sign that he was tense at all was the white-knuckled grip he had on the chair.

"The Heir of Slytherin," McGonagall said, the disdain obvious in her voice, "left another message. 'His skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"

Professor Flitwick, who was barely holding himself together, asked, "Who is it?"

"Neville Longbottom," Professor McGonagall said.

Harriet felt her knees go weak. It was only Ron's hands supporting her that kept her from falling over.

" _Neville,"_ she whispered. Ron had grown white.

McGonagall had just started talking about sending the students home when the door to the staffroom burst open. Lockhart sauntered inside, looking no worse for wear.

He grinned at everybody. "So sorry I'm late! What've I missed?"

If Harriet had been Lockhart in that moment, she would've turned to stone from the glares the other staff members were giving off.

Snape, though.

Snape just smirked.

"Just the man," he said. "Just the very man we were looking for. A boy has been snatched by the monster and taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Your moment has come at last."

"That's right," McGonagall said (and suddenly Harriet was all the more proud to be a Gryffindor). "You've been saying this entire time how the affair has been completely bungled up and that you've known where the entrance to the Chamber is all along, haven't you? And that you were hoping to get a crack at the monster?"

"I- well, I-" Lockhart sputtered.

"We'll leave you to it, then, Gilderoy," Professor McGonagall said, her tone booking no argument. "You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. Don't worry. We'll keep everybody out of your way."

Not seeing a way out, Lockhart stuttered (sounding oddly like Professor Quirrel), "V- very well. I'll be- I'll be in my office. Getting ready."

He left then. The moment he did, the energy in the room changed. McGongall looked more determined.

"That'll keep him out of our hair," Remus noted to Harriet's Head of House. She nodded.

"The other Heads of Houses should go inform our students what happened and make a quick head count. Report to the others immediately if anybody is missing. Tomorrow, the Hogwarts Express will take them back home. Hogwarts is no longer safe."

The teachers rose and left, one by one.  Harriet and Ron stumbled out of the cupboard, too shocked to speak. All Harriet could think about was that Neville -sweet, bumbling,  _brave,_ Neville- was gone into the Chamber. Ron looked as shocked as she did.

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked. "Go find Remus like we planned?"

Harriet shrugged. "I don't know."

Ron said, "I think we need to go find Lockhart. It'll help him if he knows what we know. We can tell him we think there's a basilisk in the Chamber and that the entrance may be in the girl's bathroom."

"Sounds like a good idea as any," Harriet said, slowly becoming herself again.

Experts now at sneaking about the castle, they made it to Lockhart's office in no time at all. It was dark, but Harriet could see a sliver of light underneath the door of the office. There was a lot of noise coming from inside, but once Harriet knocked, there was a sudden silence.  Lockhart opened the door a bit and peaked his eye through the crack. He didn't look particularly happy to see them.

"Ah, yes. Hello. Sorry, I'm very busy right now. You'll have to-"

"We have some information that we think will help you," said Harriet.

"I think you've- It's not terribly- Oh, alright." Lockhart looked uncomfortable, but he opened the door for them.

Harriet's jaw dropped at what she saw.

The office had been completely stripped of its belongings, two large trunks open on the floor. They were filled with books and robes and photos and hats, all which looked as though they had been simply tossed inside in a hurry.

"Are you going somewhere?" Ron asked testily.

"Yes," Lockhart said, trying to sound apologetically. "An urgent call. Unavoidable."

"What about Neville?" Harriet demanded.

"That's- Well, yes, that's most unfortunate. Nobody regrets it more than I," he said, packing up one of his posters.

"But you're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You can't  _leave!_ Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

Ron nodded in agreement. "And what about all the things you did in your books?"

"Books can be misleading," Lockhart said delicately.

"You wrote them!" Harriet said furiously.

"Oh, honestly," Lockhart sighed, sounding as though she and Ron were the ones who were the fools. "Use your common sense: my books wouldn't have sold  _half_ as well if people didn't think that  _I_ had done those things."

"So you lied," Ron accused.

"You make it sound so simple, Robert," Lockhart said, "When it's really not."

"My name is  _Ron,"_ Ron said.

"Yes. Regardless, it takes a fair bit of work. I mean, I have to track those people down, ask them how they did what they did, and then I have to put a Memory Charm on them so they don't remember what they did. If there's one thing I'm good at-"

"There isn't," Harriet scowled.

"-it's Memory Charms. Speaking of-"

Lockhart pulled out his wand. "I really am sorry about this, you two, but you must understand, right? Why, if I have you two blabbing all my secrets, I'll never sell another book! I promise, though, this won't hurt a bit-"

Harriet reached for her wand just in time. "Expelliarmus!"

Lockhart was blasted backwards, falling over. Ron managed to catch his wand and flung it out the window. Harriet kept her wand pointed at Lockhart as he stood up. Ron took out his (held together by some tape), even though it was no longer working (Lockhart didn't know that, though).

"Don't even think about it," Harriet warned, as Lockhart's eyes darted around. "You're coming with us."

"Going where?" Lockhart begged.

"It just so happens that we think we know where the Chamber of Secrets is," Harriet said seriously, " _And_ what's inside."

Ron chose this moment to groan. Harriet let her eyes dart from Lockhart to him for a moment, and then back. "What's wrong?"

"Does this mean we have to go see Myrtle?" Ron whined.

Harriet looked at him curiously. "Yeah. Why?"

"Well," Ron said awkwardly, "I don't know if you've noticed, or anything, but she has a bit of a- a crush on me."

Harriet laughed for the first time in a long time. "Believe me, mate, I've noticed."

After that, they wasted no time in marching Lockhart to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Lockhart went inside first. Harriet and Ron followed him. When they got inside, they saw Moaning Myrtle sitting on the edge of one of the stalls.

She had been looking at Lockhart curiously. Lockhart, it seemed, had never met Myrtle before, but she was apparently very pleased with what she saw.

Moaning Myrtle seemed to have forgotten that Ron was even there, much to his relief.

"Who's this?" she asked, giggling.

"This is Professor Lockhart," Harriet said quickly. Moaning Myrtle grinned shyly and waved a bit.

Harriet asked, "Myrtle, I need to ask you how you died."

She had expected Myrtle to be offended, but instead Myrtle looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question in her life.

"Oh, it was dreadful. It happened in here, you know. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing my about my glasses and the door was locked and I was crying. Then I heard somebody come in- a boy. I could tell because they started to speak in this funny language. So I opened the stall door to tell him off and then-" Myrtle looked quite pleased at this part- "I just died. It was very strange."

"That's it?" Harriet prodded.

Myrtle nodded. "Oh! I do remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes."

"That fits what Hermione found out," Ron noted, jabbing Lockhart with his wand when he thought Lockhart was going to make a break for the door.

"Where did you see the eyes?" Harriet asked.

Myrtle pointed vaguely over to one of the sinks, but didn't say anything, instead making a noncommittal noise.

Harriet and Ron hurried over to it, looking it over, but they couldn't find anything.

"That tap has never worked," Myrtle noted.

And then Harriet saw it: scratched on the side of one of the taps was a copper snake. Ron noticed it to.

He nudged her and said, "Try saying something in Parseltongue, Harri."

Harriet frowned, not really sure how to speak in Parseltongue on purpose. She never really  _tried_ to do it. It just sort of happened, even when she was talking to Isaura.

She focused really hard and tried to imagine that the engraving of the snake was real.

"Open up," she said.

She turned to Ron, who shook his head.

"English," he informed her.

Harriet looked at the snake again, squinting to try and convince herself that it was real. She imagined she was talking to Isaura.

" _Open up,"_ she said.

Only, she didn't hear those words. She heard a strange hissing and, judging by Ron's expression, he had, too. Almost immediately, the tap glowed and began to spin. The sink began to move, sinking right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, just large enough for a man (or a few children) to slide into.

Harriet and Ron were so shocked by what they saw that they failed to notice Lockhart darting forward. Ron gave a yell as the rubbish professor grabbed his wand and knocked Harriet's out of her hand.

He held Ron's wand up triumphantly, Harriet's rolling over to the floor by one of the toilets.

"I'm really sorry," Lockhart said, sounding anything but. "But our lovely little adventure ends here. It will be tragic really. I found the Chamber of Secrets, oh yes, and you two followed me down there. Sadly, I was too late to save any of you. So sad."

"Obliviate!" he yelled, but Ron's wand failed miserably. Lockhart was once again sent flying backwards, unconscious, and somehow managed to land inside one of the toilets, clearly stuck.

Harriet and Ron watched as he woke up and struggled for a moment, and then he blinked up at them. He smiled- but a real smile. Not a fake one like the ones he usually gave.

"Hello!" he said, sounding as though he hadn't a care in the world. "Who are you two? Who am I?"

"What do we do now?" Ron asked, watching as Lockhart began to play with the toilet paper, rolling himself up inside it like a little kid.

"We-" Harriet swallowed and retrieved her wand from the floor. "I need to go into the Chamber."

"' _We,_ "" Ron emphasized, managing to pry his wand away from Lockhart. "Neville is my friend, too. But I meant what do we do about him? We can't just leave him here. He might follow us down."

"Oh,  _I'll_ look after him," Myrtle said excitedly, moving closer to Lockhart, where she started to stroke his hair gently (or she tried to, at any rate, since her hand went right through him).

Lockhart didn't seem to mind.

Instead, he looked up at Myrtle and smiled. "And who are you?"

"I'm your  _girlfriend,"_ Myrtle said gleefully.

"Oh, alright," Lockhart said after a moment.

Harriet and Ron exchanged glances.

Ron said, "I think he'll be just fine."

"He's in good hands, " Harriet agreed, lowering herself into the pipe. She let go and couldn't help but let out a small scream. It was pitch black inside the pipe and incredibly wet. She raced down the slimy tube at an alarming rate, finally landing with a  _thump_ on the other side. Ron came right behind her, falling on top of her and sending them both to the floor.

He got off her and gave her a hand. They looked around to find themselves in a very small room. Harriet lit up her wand. Ron looked at his, considering it, before finally shaking his head. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Just stay close to me," Harriet suggested, taking a step forward. She grimaced at the  _crunch_ and looked down. She just noticed that she and Ron were standing on a pile of bones.

Harriet tried to give Ron a reassuring grin. "They aren't  _human_ bones. Don't worry."

That was a lie, of course, since Harriet had  _no idea_ what human bones looked like, but considering that Myrtle was the only casualty at Hogwarts from the monster, she thought it was a good assumption to make.

Clearly Ron didn't agree, since he muttered, "Sure. That makes me feel better."

Harriet rolled her eyes and carefully slid down the pile, almost loosing her footing as she made her way to the real floor. Ron slid into place next to her.

She turned to warn him, "Any sign of movement and close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright," Ron said.

They began to walk outside the tiny room-type thing until they entered into a larger, darker tunnel. "We must be miles under the school."

"Under the lake," Ron suggested, his voice echoing despite the fact that he was whispering. "Wait- there's something up there."

Harriet could barely make it out. The tunnel was so dark that it was difficult to see more than a few feet ahead of them. Ron was right, though. There was a giant shape up ahead, but it wasn't moving.

As Harriet and Ron moved even closer, they realized why. It was just the snake's skin: a giant, pale, pile of dead skin that must've been over twenty feet long.

"Blimey," Ron said weakly.

"We should probably keep moving," Harriet muttered, gently pulling Ron away from the giant skin. They were wasting too much time. Neville had been in here for ages. Ron held Harriet back, though.

"Stop. Do you hear that?"

Harriet paused and, sure enough, she did hear something. A slight skittering sound. Not wasting a second, Harriet grabbed Ron and pulled him backwards to hide behind the massive folds of skin. Ron looked as disgusted as she was, but they pushed those feelings away as the skittering got closer.

Harriet held her breath as it got closer-

Oh,  _Merlin,_ what if it was the basilisk?

Did basilisks skitter?

Harriet was just imagining the worst when  _a rat_ of all things ran past them. Not just any rat, though.

"Scabbers!" Ron whispered. Harriet covered his mouth with her hand instantly, but it didn't seem as though it had worked. The rat (Scabbers) stopped and seemed to look around. However, he didn't seem them and continued on his merry way.

Once he was gone, Harriet and Ron moved out from behind the snakeskin, flabbergasted.

Harriet said, "This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"What's he doing here?" Ron demanded. "Has he been  _here_ the entire time?"

"I have no idea," Harriet answered, "But he's going in the same direction we are, so I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

They set off past the snakeskin. Soon, the snakeskin was far behind them as the tunnel continued to stretch out before them. Harriet felt as though every nerve in her body was tingling and, next to her, Ron was shaking from head to foot.

Neither knew what they would find at the end of the tunnel. At one point, they heard a loud grating sound, followed by a moment of silence, and then more noise. They stayed stone dead until the noise once again stopped and, this time, failed to return.

They were even more on edge now, but they did eventually reach the end of the tunnel. Harriet and Ron crept around another turn and, instead of more tunnel, they saw a solid wall on which the heads of two entwined serpents were carved. Their eyes were set with shining emeralds the size of pigeon eggs.

Harriet's throat was dry as she tried to speak in Parseltongue again. She cleared her throat and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

"Open," she managed to hiss. The two halves of the wall cracked open and slid smoothly away, making a deep grating noise, which Harriet and Ron immediately recognized.

Swallowing their fear as best they could, they walked inside.

Harriet couldn't help but contain her amazement as she entered the room. The ceilings were massive and domed, the long hall lined with beautifully carved pillars. Around the pillars wound stone serpents of all shapes and sizes and, at the end, stood a massive bust of who must have been Salazar Slytherin himself.

Her attention, though, was immediately stolen by a black lump on the ground. It took Harriet a moment to realize that it was Neville in his robes. She and Ron ran to him.

Gently, she rolled him over, face up. He was still breathing, much to Harriet's relief, but was pale as a ghost. Next to him sat a ratty old diary that Harriet immediately recognized as Tom Riddle's.

 _Did Neville take it from Remus's office?_ She wondered vaguely, trying to shake Neville awake.

Next to her, Ron called, " _Wake up,_ Neville! C'mon! We need to get out of here!"

"Oh, I don't think you'll be doing that anytime soon," came a voice from deeper within the Chamber.

Harriet and Ron both looked up as  _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ stepped out from behind one of the pillars. Harriet was aware that she looked a bit like a fish at the moment.

"Tom?" Harriet asked, in shock. "Tom  _Riddle?"_

He smiled slightly at her. "Hello, Harriet."

"That's impossible," Harriet said finally, settling on the first coherent thought she could find. "You can't be- you can't be  _alive."_

"Oh, I'm not," Riddle said easily. "I'm just a memory. But soon! Soon, I'll be alive."

"I don't understand," Harriet muttered.

"I didn't expect you to," Tom said snidely. Harriet felt a prickle of unease wind through her. She didn't like the way Tom was looking at her. She shook Neville harder. They needed to get out of the Chamber as soon as possible.

"He won't wake up you know," Tom said, still not moving from his spot several feet in front of them.

Harriet stood up slowly, Ron behind her. She demanded, "What've you done to him?"

"Nothing too horrible," Tom said. "But as I mentioned, I'm not really alive yet, Harriet. Longbottom is just giving me a bit of a hand. Don't worry, though. He won't feel a thing. I  _promise."_

"You're doing this to him?" Harriet demanded. Riddle smirked proudly. "You're killing him?"

"Your point?" Riddle drawled, twiddling his wand.

"You can't do that," Harriet protested. "I mean- stealing somebody's life? Is that what you're doing? You can't."

"Why not?" Riddle demanded. "All I am right now is a memory, Harriet  _Potter,_ when I used to be  _so much more._ Why should somebody as pathetic as Longbottom be alive while I've been trapped in a diary for fifty years? He's a disgrace to Purebloods everywhere."

Harriet had no answer. She was too confused. Riddle had been  _trapped_ inside the diary? But what about all of those dreams or memories or whatever they were? And if he had been trapped, why was he coming to life  _now?_ Harriet itched to reach for her wand, but Riddle was watching her too closely and she had a feeling that any attempts to try to fight him would not end well at the moment.

"You're confused," Riddle commented softly.

Ron said, "Of course we're confused! Bloody hell..."

Harriet asked, "Why now? And-  _How?"_

"It's so difficult being a diary," Riddle sighed. "I honestly thought I'd be stuck there for god knows how long. Then, finally, I was discovered. And I found my chance, thanks to a-" Riddle sneered, "- _loyal_ servant."

"Who would be loyal to someone like you?" Harriet asked fiercely.

That's when Harriet heard it: more skittering. Turning from Riddle (albeit hesitantly), she saw  _Scabbers_ of all things run from behind another pillar.

"Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed. "Come here, Scabbers! Come to-"

Ron's voice died in his throat as he watched, transfixed, Scabbers grow larger and more human in shape. Slowly, but surely, Scabbers no longer stood before them all, but Peter Pettigrew.

One part of Harriet was shocked beyond all belief. Another felt quite ashamed that she hadn't noticed it before. She remembered commenting on Scabbers's missing finger at one point, which Pettigrew was also missing.

She couldn't help the rage that built up inside her in that moment. This was the man who had  _betrayed_ her family, gotten her godfather locked up in prison, her parents in the hospital, and her grandparents killed, forcing her to live with the Dursley's for many miserable years.

Harriet didn't think twice as she launched herself at Pettigrew with a cry of rage. She managed to land one (very hard) punch to his nose when, suddenly, she couldn't move. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ron had gone completely still, too. She recognized the effects as that of the body-binder curse.

Riddle tutted. "That wasn't very  _kind,_ Harriet."

Harriet couldn't say anything, so she settled for glaring at him quite harshly. Riddle looked at her curiously.

"This isn't going to work if you can't talk," he noted. So, with a quick wave of his wand, he undid the body bind. Before Harriet could react, though, he easily conjured up some ropes and bound her with them. Harriet struggled in vain, but failed to release them. She had a sudden flashback to her time with Quirrel.

"I suppose you're wondering why Pettigrew would choose to follow me," Riddle noted. Harriet didn't say anything, although it was a decent point. "You still haven't figured out who I really am, then, have you?"

"I know who you are now," Harriet said fiercely. "You're a murderer and a liar!"

"That's all a bit harsh," Riddle said with a chuckle. "But no. That's not quite I meant.  _Honestly,_ Harriet. After everything I heard from Pettigrew, I expected a bit more from you."

"What do you mean?" Harriet asked, continuing to struggle against her bindings, the ropes cutting into her wrists.

Riddle noted, "I must say I'm impressed. I've been keeping track on your progress in figuring out who opened the Chamber. You really should be more careful about what you say on those mirrors of yours."

Harriet felt the blood drain from her face. It was true that she and Hermione and Ron had discussed the Chamber over the mirrors a few times. She recalled seeing flickers at the edge of the mirror once or twice. She had simply assumed that they were acting up, but apparently she was wrong. Pettigrew hadn't lost his mirror. He'd been listening in this whole time.

"And I've heard quite a bit about you from Lucius, of course," Riddle noted. "I was quite interested in your little escapade with Quirrel. It's not often that one escapes the greatest wizard of all time."

Harriet couldn't quite manage to hide her confusion. "Quirrel was hardly the greatest wizard of all time."

"Not him!" Riddle snapped. " _The Dark Lord."_

He spoke with such relish in his voice that Harriet was actually nauseated. It was absolutely disgusting. Next to Riddle, Pettigrew was pale and shaking, looking every inch the coward that he was.

"What do you care about Voldemort?" Harriet demanded, eyes wide. She craned her neck and noticed Ron somehow looking quite panicked despite the fact that he couldn't move. "He was after your time."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Riddle sneered, pulling out his wand. "Voldemort is my past, my present, and my future."

With that, Riddle waved his wand and carefully scribbled out his name in large, fiery letters, suspended in the air:

_TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE._

He waved his wand again and the letters began to rearrange themselves:

_I AM LORD VOLDEMORT._

"You're Voldemort," Harriet breathed.

"Did you really expect me to keep my  _stupid,_ Muggle, father's name?"

"But I still don't understand. You died-?"

"All thanks to you," Riddle sneered. "But I wasn't a complete fool, Potter. Before I left Hogwarts, I took some precautions. I left behind a diary, preserving my sixteen year old self in its pages, until such a time that I needed to return. Lucius found me one day and informed me of all that had happened to my future self. It was time. There was still the problem of getting  _into_ Hogwarts, but that was solved easily enough. Malfoy slipped me into your friend's cauldron at the bookstore,"

"That's why Ron couldn't find his potions book!" Harriet said in realization.

"Very good," Riddle noted. "Yes, Lucius replaced that book with my diary. Once inside the school, it was incredibly easy for Pettigrew to steal the journal back. I began to teach him how to open the Chamber. It was he who set the monster on the students and who left the messages on the wall."

Harriet couldn't help but feel a bit proud as she said, "But we were on to you! Ron, Hermione, and I found the diary in Myrtle's bathroom!"

Riddle scowled and glared at Pettigrew, who squeaked in fear. "Yes, that was unfortunate. That simpering ghost caught Wormtail off guard during one of the few times where he dared risk his human form in the castle- he needed to carry the diary down into the Chamber, you see, and couldn't do it in his rat form. He's much too  _weak._ But it's alright now. He's been properly punished."

Ignoring the look on Pettigrew's face, Harriet said, "Well, none of the work you did matters. Madam Pomfrey said the mandrake solution will be ready soon and all the petrified students will be saved."

Riddle snorted. "I'll admit, ridding the school of  _mudbloods_ was my original goal, but as Pettigrew told me more and more about  _you,_ Harriet, you're the one I really wanted to meet."

"Me?" Harriet asked.

"Yes," Riddle said. "You see, Pettigrew isn't a complete imbecile. Originally, my plan was to take Pettigrew's life for my own." Pettigrew squeaked again. Clearly he hadn't known about this part of the plan. "However, I soon realized that this plan would deprive me of one of the few followers who currently know I'm alive- as moronic as he is. I would naturally be much better off in the hands of one of my other Death Eaters... Snape, for instance. However, beggars can't be choosers."

"Snape was a Death Eater?" Harriet asked, horrified.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Riddle asked gleefully. "Yes, he was one of my most loyal followers. He was quite a patron of the Dark Arts, even in school." Riddle snorted. "He even had this own little secret identity. He called himself the Half-Blood Prince."

Harriet couldn't breathe.

_No, not Uncle Severus. Not him. He would never-_

_"_ Snape was the one who told me about the prophecy, you know."

Harriet decided that she really didn't want to know about the prophecy. No. She didn't want to know, but before she could stop herself:

"What prophecy?" she rasped.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Your parents really have been keeping secrets from you, haven't they? Well, I suppose it's not my place to say. But haven't you ever wondered why I came to your house that night?"

"You- you-" Harriet couldn't find her voice. Not knowing what else to say, she repeated the lie she had once been told. "You were looking for my parents."

Riddle scoffed. "I was looking for  _you,_ Harriet. But no matter. Soon, you will be dead and I will be alive, and your little sidekick over there-" he jerked his head to indicate the still-frozen Ron- "Will get to watch it all unfold, to spread the message that I, Lord Voldemort, the greatest sorcerer in the world, is alive!"

"You're wrong!" Harriet said fiercely. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"Dumbledore has been driven out of the castle by the mere memory of me!"

"He'll never be gone!" Harriet shouted, her incredible anger overriding her fear. "Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!"

"And there will be one less of  _those_ in the world," Riddle said contemplatively. He raised his wand. "Good-bye, Harriet Potter."

Harriet couldn't move.  _This was it._

_"AVADA KEDAVRA."_

There was a bright flash of green light. Harriet flinched and turned her head, but there was no use. An invisible force slammed into her chest with all the power of one of Dudley's kicks-

_Burning- Burning-_

_Please_ -

_Oh._

_..._


	27. The Beginning

**"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."**

**-Albert Einstein**

* * *

**Harriet Potter- Somewhere, Sometime**

The first thing that Harriet noticed when the odd burning stopped was that she laying on a cool, hard, floor. Now, Harriet didn't have very much experience with being dead, but she was fairly certain that it didn't involve cool, hard, floors. She let herself just lay there for a little bit. In all honesty, she was tired and wanted to rest-  _just for a minute-_ before she tried to sit up and figure out where she was. Finally, though, the cold got the best of her and she had no choice but to sit up.

That's when she noticed she had no clothes on.

For a moment, she panicked, but then movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention. She looked and there, next to her, was a pile of clean clothes, which she was  _positive_ had never been there before. Harriet hastily put them on, stood up, and looked around.

Her first impression that this place -  _wherever it was-_ looked vaguely liked King's Cross. She walked slowly forward, her footsteps echoing loudly. At first, she was convinced that she was entirely alone. Then, after she had been walking for several minutes with no end in sight, she noticed a small, dark, lump on the floor ahead of her.

Harriet ran to it. Even with no wand, she assumed that she was already dead, so whatever the thing was, it's not as though it could kill her. She figured she was relatively safe. She slowed, though, as she neared it, disgusted.

Whatever it was, it was naked and curled up on the floor. A grotesque  _thing_ squalled on the floor, like the world's most pitiful baby and, as ugly and horrible as it was, Harriet had the strong urge to help it.

"There's nothing you can do," a voice behind her said gently. Harriet whipped her head around. A man was approaching slowly, looking at the thing on the floor.

Harriet stuttered, "I'm sorry?"

"You can't help it," the man explained, pointing at the thing on the floor. "He's made his bed. Now he's got to lie in it."

"Forever?" Harriet asked, eyes wide. The man nodded and Harriet frowned. "So I'm dead, then?"

The man chuckled. "If you like."

The man at this point was close enough for Harriet to see his features. Thin and aristocratic, he was undeniably handsome in his white robes and he reminded Harriet of somebody, but she couldn't quite place him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harriet demanded.

"Well, it is up to you," the man explained, "whether or not you want to be dead. You'll get to decide."

"So this isn't heaven?" Harriet asked, watching the thing on the floor. It continued to writhe and mewl pathetically. This couldn't be heaven, she decided. There was no way it could be heaven, right? And she didn't think she was bad enough to end up in hell, so-

The man looked shocked, "I hope not!"

The man pulled her gently away from whatever it was on the floor. They walked as the spoke. Harriet looked around. "So where are we, then?"

"Where do  _you_ think we are, Harriet?" the man asked. Harriet almost tripped when she heard him say her name. She hadn't realized that he had known it. "This is, after all,  _your_ party, as they say."

"It looks like King's Cross," Harriet began slowly, "Only cleaner. And it doesn't smell like pee."

The man laughed at that. "King's Cross! That's rather appropriate, I suppose, since this is the place where you choose where to go. It's the in-between."

"The in-between of- of life and death?" Harriet tried to clarify. "Where I decide whether or not I want to live or die?"

"Essentially, yes," the man agreed.

Harriet frowned. "Do people usually get to choose?"

"No," the man admitted, guiding her over to a bench, where they sat down. Harriet was able to get a closer look at his face, sure that she knew him from somewhere. "You're one of the rare exceptions."

"I'm sorry," Harriet said finally, shaking her head and trying to clear it. "But who exactly  _are_ you, sir?"

The man didn't look all that surprised at the question. He must've been expecting her to ask it for a while now. "Why, I'm Regulus Black."

Harriet had thought that nothing else today would surprise her, but evidently she was was wrong. Of course, it all made sense (well, a little bit  _more_ sense than it did before, anyway). Regulus looked remarkably like his brother, Sirius, which was why Harriet had been so sure she had seen him before...

"You died years ago, though," Harriet said. Regulus nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything else about how he died, so Harriet asked, "What are you doing here, then? I mean- you can't be deciding just now whether or not you want to live or die- can you?"

"No," Regulus said. "I wasn't afforded that choice. But somebody needed to explain this all to you, didn't they?

"You haven't actually done much explaining," Harriet pointed out awkwardly, not wanting to upset him. The only experience she had with dead people were the ghosts in the castle, and they were usually very touchy. "I mean, I was hit with the Killing Curse. Shouldn't I have died right then?"

"Well, yes, but- Harriet, how much do you know about Horcruxes?" He looked at Harriet's expression and nodded. "So you've heard of them?"

"I had dreams," Harriet said slowly, "About Riddle- I mean, Voldemort- from when he was at school. You split your soul, don't you? And then you put the piece somewhere safe and it will keep you from dying."

"Exactly," Regulus said. "Voldemort is one of the few wizards known to have created a horcrux and succeeded. He is certainly the only known wizard to have managed to create more than one."

"He made seven," Harriet guessed. "Didn't he?"

"Voldemort did originally want to create seven," Regulus began slowly. "Seven is a powerful number in magic. He assumed that if he could make all seven, he would be unstoppable. So, he began early, while he was still at Hogwarts."

"He killed Myrtle," Harriet said horrified.

"Shortly after," Regulus said nodding, "He killed his own grandfather."

"I thought he killed Marvolo Gaunt?" Harriet said confused. "I mean- I dreamt about it."

"Oh, no, he didn't  _kill_ Gaunt," Regulus denied. "He just stole the ring. Gaunt was very reluctant to give it up, of course. From what I recall, Riddle had to almost torture him into insanity- not that he was entirely sane to begin with. By the time Riddle left him, it was more than easy enough for him to pin the Riddle family's murders on him."

"Voldemort- Riddle- whoever he was- killed the entire family?" Harriet asked, horrified.

"He did," Regulus confirmed. "He used their murders to create a horcrux in the ring. Already, he had done what no other wizard had ever dared before to do. After leaving Hogwarts, he managed to get a hold of Salazar Slytherin's locket. He murdered a muggle tramp for that horcrux. I won't go into too much detail, but he later proceeded in creating two more horcruxes using Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. He now had created five horcruxes."

"What happened then?" Harriet asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"That's about the time that Voldemort learned about the prophecy," Regulus told her reluctantly.

"Riddle mentioned a prophecy," Harriet said. "What did he mean?"

For the first time since the conversation began, Regulus smiled a bit. "Do you ever wonder why Professor Dumbledore- the smart man that he is- hired Professor Trelawney?"

"The Divination professor?" Harriet questioned, wrinkling her nose. "My mum and dad told me about her. They say she's a bit nuts. And I've seen her around the school... she's a bit, ah, strange."

"When Dumbledore went to interview her all those years ago, he went through the interview and, by the end of it, was convinced she was a fraud."

"So what happened?"

"At the end, Trelawney gave her  _probably only_ real prediction. It went: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... to be marked by the Dark Lord as his equal, but possessing the power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

"What does it mean?" Harriet breathed.

"A child born at the end of July to parents who have defied him three times will be the one to destroy Voldemort. At least, that's the way Voldemort himself chose to interpret it."

It took Harriet a moment to put the pieces together.

"So- I'm supposed to kill Voldemort?" Harriet breathed.

"Actually, the prophecy could have been speaking of one of two children," Regulus said softly. "You or a boy named Neville Longbottom."

" _Neville?"_ Harriet gasped. "But- Oh, his parents..."

"They defied Voldemort," Regulus agreed. "And they paid the price for it, I'm afraid. I knew them at Hogwarts. Few could deny that they were lovely people. But Voldemort was quick to figure out who it was the prophecy was referring to. He narrowed it down to the two of you in relatively no time at all."

Harriet asked, "But Voldemort didn't know about the prophecy. He couldn't have. Dumbledore would never have told him."

"The interview was given in a public place- at the Hog's Head. I'm sure you know of it, Harriet."

"I've heard of it."

"One of Voldemort's Death Eaters was there that night. He overheard part of the prophecy, but in his excitement, he managed to get himself kicked out of the pub before he could hear the rest of it. He told the Dark Lord what he knew."

"It was Snape," Harriet said, more to herself than to anybody else. "That's what- that's what Riddle meant."

Regulus's silence was all the confirmation Harriet needed. She stood up and took a few steps forward, then she stopped and turned around.

"HE WOULDN'T!" She yelled at Regulus. "HE'S FAMILY!"

"Harriet-" Regulus began, but then he stopped, not really sure what to tell her.

"But he would, wouldn't he?" Harriet asked nobody in particular. "Dumbledore said that he and my father never got along well in school..."

"No, Harriet," Regulus interrupted. "Snape was a Death Eater. That much is true. He told Voldemort about the prophecy, yes. He never knew it was your family, though, that Voldemort would target. He tried to get Voldemort to leave you alone and when that failed, he went to Dumbledore to spy for the light. He swore to protect you! "

"BECAUSE HE WAS FRIENDS WITH MY MOTHER!" Harriet screeched. "HE DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THE REST OF US!  _WHY_ ARE YOU DEFENDING HIM?"

"The truth is never one-sided, Harriet," Regulus pointed out, speaking loudly over her. "If Snape had never asked Voldemort to spare your mother, you wouldn't be alive."

"I don't understand-"

"Snape's request convinced Voldemort to kill you and you alone," Regulus began. "When Voldemort arrived at your house that night, he gave your grandmother the chance to step aside and live, if she would let him kill you. I can assure you that the Dark Lord is not usually so lenient."

Harriet remembered hearing her grandparents' screams in the Dementor attacks. "Oh."

"Exactly," Regulus agreed. He said, "Your grandmother's choice, a choice that she never would have been given if not for Snape's request, to sacrifice her own life is what saved yours that horrible night."

"So when Voldemort came to the house that night, he came to kill me," Harriet said softly. Regulus nodded quietly.

"The thing is," Regulus said gently, "It could've been either one of you that night. But Voldemort chose to go after you first- strange he chose not the pureblood, but the half-blood, like him. Without knowing, Voldemort set the prophecy in motion. He could've let you and Neville grow up before he tried to kill either one of you, had he known the entire thing, but he didn't. And he marked  _you_ as his equal Harriet."

Harriet touched her scar.

"And now it's up to me to kill-" Harriet began, but Regulus stopped her.

"No, Harriet! Don't you see? You don't  _have_  to do anything! But Voldemort killed your grandparents. He is a horrible man, full of hatred. So  _unlike_ you. What would you do if you saw him again? What  _have_ you done already?"

"I'd fight him," Harriet said.

Regulus then said, "And what if you decided not to? Decided to go spend the rest of your life in hiding? What do you think he would do?"

"He'd try to find me," Harriet said softly. "He'd try to kill me."

"Exactly," Regulus said firmly.

"But- but he has to be wrong," Harriet said firmly. "I don't have some secret power! I mean, I'm not even the best in our year! That's Hermione!"

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Regulus muttered to himself. "If my brother were here, he'd tease me mercilessly for how corny I'm about to sound."

Then he raised his voice. "Love, Harriet. That's the secret power. Voldemort never understood it. It took ages for  _me_  to understand. But  _you_  understand it. Maybe better than anyone. Your friends- your family. Do you know what your parents and my brother and Lupin and, yes, even Snape have been working on these past few months?

Harriet shook her head.

"They've been looking for horcruxes! To help you and to  _protect_ you because they  _love_ you. That has always been Voldemort's problem. He believes that love makes you weak, but the truly wise know that love makes you strong. You've known that all along, Harriet."

She felt proud in that moment, but not of herself. Of her family. "So- so they found them, then? My family found the horcruxes."

"They found the ring and the cup and the locket and the diadem," Regulus confirmed. "All they need now is a way to destroy them. Horcruxes are self-repairing and thus  _extremely_ hard to destroy."

"But they still  _found_ them! And the diary is in the Chamber!" Harriet said excitedly. "That's it! It's over!"

"No, Harriet, it isn't." Regulus said. "There's still one more Horcrux that your parents don't know about."

Harriet frowned. "But- there were only five, weren't there?"

"I was trying to tell you," Regulus explained. "Voldemort went to your house that night intending to kill you and use your murder to create a sixth horcrux. However, he did't count on your grandmother's sacrifice. That ancient magic protected you and destroyed him. His soul was so incredibly fragile that night-

"-no-" Harriet denied, seeing where he was going.

"-that a piece snapped off. It attached itself to you-"

"No!" Harriet argued. "SHUT UP!"

Harriet knew she was doing a lot of yelling, but considering the circumstances, she had a feeling she had a right to. Regulus seemed to understand, anyway. He waited a few minutes for her to calm down a bit and sit down. He rubbed her back soothingly, a lot like his brother did for her, too.

"Did you never wonder why you dreamt about him?"

"That was because of the horcrux?" Harriet whispered. Regulus nodded.

"Considering everything Riddle knows about the future, I wouldn't be surprised if Riddle had some dreams about you, too," Regulus noted. "And I have no doubt that Pettigrew and Malfoy also kept him filled in on everything that went on since his death."

Harriet still didn't want to accept it. "I do not have a part of him in me! I DON'T!"

"No, Harriet! You don't!" He laughed all of a sudden, looking genuinely happy for the first time since Harriet had seen him. His eyes crinkled at the corner, Harri thought, just like Sirius's did when he was really happy.

"But you just said I did!" Harriet said petulantly.

"You  _did,"_ Regulus told her, "But you don't anymore! You came down into the Chamber, you did so knowing that you may very well die, but wanting very much to save your friend. That sacrifice meant that when Riddle killed you- or rather, tried to kill you- he destroyed the horcrux inside of you."

Harriet thought back to the odd thing she had seen on the floor of the station. It had looked so  _miserable_ and  _pitiful_ and-

"That was Voldemort's soul?" Harriet said.

"Yes," Regulus confirmed. "It was. And it will remain here for eternity, punishment for everything he did. Unless-"

"Unless?" Harriet asked.

"Unless he shows remorse," Regulus admitted. "It's the only way to undo horcruxes, so to speak, but it is incredibly painful and none have ever survived the process."

Harriet wasn't really sure how she felt about that. He had done so many horrible things- but eternity?- he had killed her grandparents... She just didn't really know. And maybe she would never know. Harriet knew that it was possible to hate somebody and still feel sorry for them. She hated Dudley, but couldn't help but admit that she felt sorry he had two parents who were so completely horrible.

"What happens now?" Harriet said finally.

"As I said before, that's entirely up to you. You can either go back to living or you could, well, die."

"You mean I have to decide right now?" Harriet frowned, none too happy. "But I still have questions!"

"I don't think I'm the right person to answer those questions, love," Regulus chided gently, and Harriet knew that he meant her family: her mum and dad and Sirius and Remus and her Uncle Sev and, yes, even Hermione and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys and Isaura and- oh, so many people.

She had spent ten years thinking she had no family at all (at least none worth having), but, as it turned out, she had more family than she knew what to do with!

"I guess not," Harriet admitted. "So, how exactly do I get back?"

Regulus looked at her sharply. "I do have to warn you: if you do go back, life for you won't be easy. Riddle isn't gone yet, and besides life can be painful, even without evil wizards and battles. Normal things, everyday things. Sometimes they can hurt the worst."

"I know," Harriet said softly, thinking of her fight with Hermione. "But I have to go back. Don't I? I mean, you say it's my decision, but it's really not, isn't it? Riddle- Voldemort- whoever he is- is still alive. I can't just leave it at that."

"No, I don't suppose you can," Regulus mused. "You really are your parents' daughter."

Harriet beamed at this, but then she realized something. This whole thing was starting to sound too much like a good-bye. "Is this- I mean, will I ever see you again?"

"Doubtful," Regulus admitted, as Harriet's heart plummeted to her stomach. "I'm dead, Harriet. I have been for many years."

Harriet  _liked_ Regulus. A lot, actually. She didn't want to say goodbye to him. It wasn't fair that she had so many relatives she would never get to know.

"No, don't look like that," he soothed, "It was a good death. A great deal better than a man like me deserves. And now my brother knows the truth and this whole matter will be over. I can finally be at peace."

"Oh," Harriet said. Acting on impulse, she reached forward and hugged Regulus tightly around the waist. He knelt down to her level and hugged her closer. When she pulled back, Harriet had a feeling she was sniffling a little, but he didn't say anything, since his smile was a bit watery, too.

"It was wonderful to finally meet you, Harriet," Regulus said softly. Harriet nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Could you- could you pass on a message to my brother for me?"

Harriet again nodded.

Regulus said, "Tell him that- well, tell him that I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. What's really important in life, I mean. And tell him I love him. Even after he ran away, I never really stopped. He was my older brother, after all. Could you tell him that for me, please?"

"Yea," Harriet said, "Of course."

"I guess this is goodbye, then," Regulus said, letting go of her and standing up.

Harriet asked, "How do I get back, though?"

As she spoke, she felt the odd sensation of zooming through a tunnel. The lights and colors began to run together and the sounds grew slow and thick like molasses. Harriet tried to focus on Regulus, but it got harder and harder.

"Wait!" she called out, but her voice was lost to the wind. "Did this really happen? Or is it all in my head?"

"Of course it's all in your head," Regulus responded, but Harriet could barely hear him. "But who says that means it can't be real?"

* * *

**Harriet Potter and Ron Weasley, Chamber of Secrets - February 17, 1993**

When Harriet came to, she found that she was back in the Chamber of Secrets. She knew because she could hear Riddle droning on and on about something. Honestly, did that man never shut up?

It took Harriet a moment to remember what had happened- she had been hit with the Killing Curse and then received a pep-talk from her godfather's dead brother. It took her another moment to realize that, for some reason, she wasn't breathing. She chose  _that_ moment to take a deep breath and open her eyes.

Harriet was flat on her back on the floor. She was no longer bound and could see the tattered remains of the rope that had bound her on the floor. Her wand was next to her, so she grabbed it and scrambled to her feet, ignoring the dull ache in her chest.

Riddle was no longer where she had left him, standing over Neville and the diary. He was turned around, facing the large statue of Salazar Slytherin. Neville looked paler (if that was possible) and didn't seem to be breathing anymore. Ron was still bound, but his face was wet, as though he had been crying. It was Pettigrew who saw her first.

He whimpered and brought up a finger to point at her. "M-master!"

Riddle turned around. He was unable to hide his shock at seeing her alive and, for the first time, Harriet saw a flicker of fear enter his face. Then it was gone. He angrily took a step towards her, and then stopped, thinking better of it.

He hissed, " _Why_ do you live, girl?"

Harriet answered truthfully, "Because I have something worth living for."

Riddle scoffed and jerked his head at Pettigrew. "Kill her." Then he turned around back to Slytherin, clearly thinking that Harriet was no match for Pettigrew.

Harriet knew that he was right. Pettigrew may have been a coward and a murderer, but he was an  _experienced_ coward and murderer.

Pettigrew didn't hesitate to raise his wand. Harriet didn't hesitate in yelling, " _Expelliarmus!",_ but he easily deflected it. Pettigrew tried to hit her with a Killing Curse, but Harriet threw herself out of the way in the knick of time.

Harriet didn't know what to do- she didn't know any other spells- what could she use-? That's when Harriet remembered something that she had seen in the Half-Blood Prince's- Uncle Sev's?- notes.

_Sectumsempra- Use on your enemies._

Harriet didn't think as she raised her wand again and yelled " _Sectumsempra!"_

Pettigrew clearly hadn't thought she would try something else, so he wasn't prepared. The spell hit him full on and he was sent crashing to the floor. He didn't get back up. Harriet wasn't sure what the spell was designed to do, but when she stood up and walked closer to Pettigrew, she found out.

There were large slashes all over his body, bleeding heavily. Pettigrew wasn't able to speak, so he simply gurgled when he saw her. Harriet thought she was going to be sick as she knelt down next to him and began to press down on the wounds, just like her mother had once told her, to try and stop the bleeding.

It didn't work.

There were too many wounds and they were bleeding too fast and Harriet didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, trying, trying,  _trying_ , to stop the bleeding. Pettigrew didn't seem to hear her. "I didn't mean to- I would  _never- I'm sorry!_ "

Pettigrew opened his mouth and tried to say something, but sputtered and coughed, blood pooling in his throat. Harriet swore, though, that she heard him say, "Me, too."

Then he died.

Harriet didn't really know how to process what had just happened. Before she could even  _try_ to understand, she heard Riddle say, "Pathetic! Both of you!"

She stood up and glared at him, "He just died because of you!"

"He was worthless. The only good he ever did was going around Hogwarts and doing my dirty work, like stealing the diary from the  _werewolf's_ office" Riddle seethed. Harriet had thought that he had been angry before, but now he was downright furious. His face was contorted in a hideous expression. "And why are you blaming me?  _You_ killed him."

Harriet flinched, making Riddle laugh. "That man tried to kill you, but you feel  _sorry_ for him? You really are weak, Harriet Potter."

"No," Harriet protested. "You're the weak one! Because you'll never know love, or friendship." Harriet remembered what Regulus had told her. "Or remorse. And that's why  _I_  feel sorry for  _you_. You have a chance, though, Tom. Just try for some  _remorse!_ "

As Harriet spoke, she felt stronger, as though bolstered up by her own words, but when she finished speaking, she realized that it was something else...something more. There was a beautiful sound in the air and it was so amazing that Harriet suddenly felt like crying. Riddle felt it, too, although he seemed a lot less moved. His eyes focused on something behind Harriet's shoulder and widened in surprise. Harriet turned just in time to see a gorgeous streak of red and gold fly into the Chamber. It took Harriet a second to place it as Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix! Not to mention that he was carrying what looked like the Sorting Hat.

It was only a natural reaction that let Harriet catch it when Fawkes dropped it. She flipped the hat over in her hands a few times. It didn't do anything. As Fawkes settled down on Harriet's shoulder, Riddle realized that Harriet was holding and starting to laugh.

"So," he said, "This is what Dumbledore sends his great defender? A songbird...and an old  _hat?"_

Harriet didn't really know what to tell him. She herself couldn't help but feel incredibly betrayed. Is this all she was worth to Dumbledore?

"Let's just see how ' _sorry'_ you feel for me, Harriet," Riddle spat, "When you are introduced to the true power of the Heir of Slytherin!" He turned back to the statue and spoke, in Parseltongue, " _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"_

There was nothing Harriet could do but watch, horrified, as the statue of Slytherin's face began to move, its mouth opening wider and wider, eventually forming a huge black hole. And then- oh, something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was moving-

Harriet got a brief glimpse of the shadow of what could only be the basilisk, accompanied by the familiar sound of scales on tile that she had become so used to with Isaura, before she turned around and ran down the end of the massive room, trying to reach the door. Fawkes leapt from her shoulder and she wanted to shout at him for leaving her, but it was pointless.

What could a bird do against the king of serpents?"

"There's no point in talking to it, Potter. The basilisk only obeys me." Harriet heard Riddle say.

Then, to the basilisk, "Kill her."

"Ron," she yelled, suddenly remembering that Ron had been in a full body-bind for the entire thing, "Close your eyes!"

Harriet's warning was too distracting for her. She tripped over one of the stones on the floor and fell, sliding several feet on the slippery floor before coming to a halt, her glasses flying off her face. Behind her, she could hear the massive body of the basilisk moving forward, hear it hissing as it searched for her.

Harriet groped for her glasses and slipped them on, but by then, she knew it was too late. Her wand was several yards away, so she wouldn't be able to reach it even if she had any idea what spell to use on the snake. She could hear the basilisk directly behind her, so she screwed her eyes shut and put her hands over her head to protect herself, as though that would help.

Waiting for fangs to sink into her body, Harriet was surprised by a mad hissing, then something thrashing wildly off the pillars.

There was nothing else for it- she would have to look.

She opened her eyes slightly, barely squinting, and watched, amazed, as the scene played out in front of her by the shadow of the basilisk and  _Fawkes!_ Fawkes was distracting the snake! And doing quite a job of it, too! The phoenix was diving in and out, his claws scratching at the snake's eyes.

The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly avoiding Harriet. Harriet pulled herself out of the way, but the basilisk turned before she could shut her eyes. Thankfully, Harriet had been right. Fawkes had scratched the snake's eyes out: blood was streaming to the floor and the snake was hissing in agony.

Harriet couldn't help but flinch in sympathy for it.

That feeling of course, only lasted a moment, because then Riddle was shouting, "NO! LEAVE THE BIRD! KILL POTTER! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HER!"

It was around that time that Harriet decided now would be a good time to run, so she scrambled to her feet and ran for the one of the exits, finding herself in one of the pipes. Not really sure which way to go, she chose a random opening and followed it-

-only to find herself at a dead end.

Harriet tugged futilely at the bars, partially wishing that she had her wand to blast them open, but also knowing that she would  _never_ leave Ron and Neville down here alone.

She heard some hissing coming from behind her.

 _"Potter,"_ the Basilisk seemed to be saying,  _"Must find Potter."_

Harriet held her breath as she turned around, praying that the basilisk wouldn't choose  _this_ pipe to come down. The snake could still smell her, but they were completely surrounded by dirty, stinky water. Surely that made some sort of difference?

Apparently, she was wrong, since the basilisk slowly pushed its massive body into the tunnel, hissing softly. Harriet held her breath and reached down into the water by her feet. As quietly as she could, she pulled out a small stone, before freezing, the basilisk only a few inches away from her.

 _This was it,_ she thought to herself, gently tossing the stone outside the tunnel. It made a slight splash in the water, but the sound echoed ridiculously in the pipes. The basilisk almost seemed to perk its ears up, listening, before coming to a decision and sweeping out of the smaller pipe and towards the sound.

Harriet watched it hopefully as it glided past, before running back down the way she came, back into the chamber. Ron was still died up and Neville looked as pale as ever.

That's when Harriet saw her wand lying on the ground. Really considering what the use of the wand holster Remus gave her for Christmas was when she dropped her wand so many times, Harriet lunged for it. At the same moment, the basilisk seemed to have found out it had been tricked.

It wasn't happy.

It emerged from another one of the tunnels in the chamber, sweeping forward with a startling speed. It's tail clipped her shoulder, sending her flying to the other side of the room away from her wand- but towards the Sorting Hat.

Dumbledore must've sent it to her for  _some_ reason, Harriet thought desperately, grabbing the hat and running to hide behind one of the pillars.

Help me — help me — Harriet thought, eyes screwed tight under the hat. Please help me.

There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.

Something hard hit Harriet on the top of the head, almost knocking her out. Head pounding (Regulus hadn't been joking when he said that coming back would be painful), she yanked the hat off the top of her head and felt something long and hard beneath it. Looking, she saw a gleaming silver sword inside the hat. It's handle glittering with large rubies. She unsheathed it from the hat. Even knowing as little as she did about swords, she couldn't help but be impressed.

Eyeing the basilisk, she couldn't help but breathe (more to herself than anybody else, since nobody was around to hear), "This could work."

Riddle kept shouting orders to the basilisk, which was swaying slightly, still confused since it had lost its sense of sight. It turned around, smashing into pillars as it did so, but Harriet was already running, even though she wasn't sure where or why or  _how_ she was going to pull this whole thing off.

The head of Salazar Slytherin looked oddly inviting (partially because the basilisk was currently facing away from it), so Harriet headed towards it. It took her a moment to get some purchase on the slippery stone, and she made quite a bit of noise as she climbed up, catching the attention of the large reptile. It lunged towards her as she climbed, so Harriet clumsily swung her sword and tried not to lose her footing. The basilisk missed her and hit the wall of the Chamber, giving Harriet enough time to finally reach the top of Slytherin's head.

The basilisk lunged and Harriet swung at it again, having no clue what she was doing. It's tongue whipped against her ribcage, but Harriet managed to whack the snake on the nose. It hissed furiously and whipped its head around, hitting Harriet's sword arm and knocking the blade from her grip. The sword fell several feet away and began to slip off of the statue. As the basilisk leant back to strike again, Harriet dove for the sword just as it tipped over the edge of Slytherin's head.

Clutching the sword tightly once again, Harriet dove forward as the basilisk lunged for a third time. Her aim was true and, throwing her weight behind the sword, she drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth-

But Harriet knew immediately that something was very wrong. Blood had begun to gush down her arm, warm and wet, and there was a point near her elbow that felt as though it were on fire. She pulled the sword out of the snake's mouth and managed to slide down the statue, miraculously staying upright. She could hear the snake screaming loudly, its agonizing screeches making her heart wring momentarily as her mind blearily flickered to Isaura.

Harriet and the basilisk both landed on the floor. The basilisk twitched and died, but Harriet stayed alive. Barely. She yanked the poisonous fang from her arm and gasp as more blood and pain poured forth. She dragged herself over to where Neville was and shook him, hard. He didn't wake up or even move.

Harriet didn't want to look at Riddle. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't bare to look at Ron, either, who was now going to be forced to watch his best friend die. Again. All because she had lost. There was no horcrux to save her now. All there was was the pain in her arm as it spread throughout her body- even the Chamber was slowly fading as her vision began to dim.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Potter," Riddle said awfully. He sounded as though he couldn't believe his luck. "I'm going to watch the light leave your eyes as the basilisk venom kills you."

Riddle walked towards her chuckling. "So ends the  _great_ Harriet Potter. What a shame. And to think- your friend here will have witnessed it all. Longbottom is as good as dead- he was  _weak,_ but Weasley! He'll be able to tell every one about how Harriet Potter  _begged_ for death and I, being a merciful lord, gave it to her."

What she wanted more than anything else in the world was to tell Riddle that the last thing she would ever do would be to beg for death, especially not from  _him,_ but her tongue didn't seem to be working right.

Riddle said, "Yes, I think I might let your little side-kick live. Isn't that kind of me?"

Harriet heard everything Riddle said as though he were speaking through molasses. And it took her a few moments to understand what he was saying. She did understand his last comment, though. And it made her angry.

_Isn't that kind of me?_

_Isn't that kind of me?_

_Isn't that kind of me?_

It was the second time she had heard him use this words. This was the man who tortured and killed thousands of innocent people. He had killed her grandparents and her parents' friends and Regulus and Quirrell (poor, useless, Quirrell) and now Neville and Ron and-

The basilisk fang was right next to her. Harriet grabbed it and then pulled the diary, still lying innocently on the floor (oh, if only she had known...) closer to her. She raised the basilisk fang up.

Riddle eye's widened. "What're you doing?"

She brought it down, hard, stabbing the diary just as Riddle realized her plan. He screamed and burst into a bright ball of light. He was still there, though, still fighting. Harriet raised the basilisk fang again and stabbed the diary again on another page.

Another burst of light.

Harriet shut the diary and, with every ounce of strength she had left, she brought the basilisk fang down into the cover of the diary one last time. Riddle screamed loudly as the light almost seemed to tear him apart.

And, just like that, it was over.

The Chamber was silent.

The, two things happened at once, although Harriet could barely process anything at this point. The venom from the basilisk fang was still spreading like a wildfire through her. In that moment, Ron was released from his bindings and Neville took a gasp of air.

Ron, as pleased as he was to see that Neville was alright, barely spared him a second glance. He went straight for Harriet, feeling as though he were about to throw up. He had seen it all- everything- Harriet dying, killing Pettigrew, the basilisk, the diary- he could barely breathe right now.

Now, Harriet was lying on the floor, looking far too dazed to be normal, her arm drenched in blood. He reached her and pulled both the diary and the fang out of her hands and shook her gently.

"Harriet? Harriet, are you alright?"

Harriet didn't say anything. It didn't look as though she could focus on him. Behind him, Ron heard a soft voice ask, "Ron? Harriet? What's going on?"

It was Neville. He was slowly making his way over to them. Ron heard him gasp as he saw Harriet. Neville, as pale as before and so confused it was almost sad, crouched next to him and asked, shakily, "What happened to her?"

Neville's voice seemed to shake Harriet out of her stupor. "Neville- Ron? Ron. You need to get out of here. Get the hat and the- and the- bird- Fawkes. Get the hat and Fawkes and just get out. Find Dumbledore."

"You're hurt," Neville protested.

Ron almost laughed when Harriet said, "I'll be fine."

"Harriet-" Ron began, only to be interrupted by a loud hoot by Fawkes as the phoenix settled down next to Harriet. Harriet managed a small smile.

"You were brilliant Fawkes," she told him truthfully. "I just wasn't quick enough."

The bird laid its beautiful head where the serpent's fang had pierced her and tears fell from its eyes. His scarlet feathers were very soft...

"Why is the bird crying?" Neville asked fearfully. Harriet wanted to explain to him what had happened, but she couldn't find the words, even though it wasn't fair that Neville knew nothing of what was going on.

He deserved to know that Harriet was dying, but that was okay, because at least now the pain was going away- dying wasn't so bad. Actually, it didn't really feel like dying. The last time she had died, it had been rather instantaneous, to be fair, but it certainly didn't feel like this. Because the Chamber wasn't going dark. It was getting light again. And everything was beginning to sound normal. Not to mention that Harriet didn't feel  _nearly_ as sleepy anymore.

Harriet blinked into focus and saw Ron and Neville watching her concernedly.

 _How long had they been there?_ She thought dazedly before looking down at Fawkes, who was standing next to her patiently.

"Oh," she said softly, finding it much easier to use her tongue, now. "Phoenix tears have healing powers."

Not really sure what else to say, she said to Fawkes, "Thanks."

Harriet swallowed and turned back to Ron and Neville. Ron, looking incredibly hopeful, asked, "Harri?"

"It's alright, Ron," Harriet assured him. "It's all over."

Ron let out a deep breath, looking as though he was about ready to cry. Neville looked ready to cry for an entirely different reason, though. He had finally seen the basilisk. He looked between it and Harriet wildly.

Harriet was feeling a bit giddy as Ron helped her up, so she smiled at Neville and said, "Impressive, right?"

"Ah-" Neville said.

Fawkes settled on Harriet's shoulder as Harriet picked up the hat and the sword and tucked the diary into her pocket. As an afterthought, she also picked up the basilisk fang, making sure to be extra careful not to hurt herself with it.

She wrinkled her nose at the beetle currently resting on the brim of the hat and shooed it away. She looked over at the basilisk, not really sure what to make of it. Harriet couldn't help but feel bad for it once again- it was only doing what it was told.

Ron, who, out of the three of them, was probably the least injured, didn't seem to be feeling too sentimental at the moment. He said, "Right, then. Let's get out of here before something  _else_  goes wrong."

* * *

**A Very Concerned Group of Adults, Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts- February 18, 1993**

The group currently assembled at the office was exhausted. This partially because it was technically in the middle of the night. It was also because, now, three students  _and_ a teacher were missing from the school. To the parents of two of these students, the fact that their children were missing at all wasn't too big a surprise, since they had a tendency to stir up trouble wherever they went.

"This is all my fault," Remus berated himself, sitting in one of the chairs in Dumbledore's office, head in his hands, "I left them alone in the Hospital Wing."

"Stop talking like that," Lily admonished, eyes red from crying earlier. "You can't blame yourself for what happened. If anybody else had just been told that a student had been taken into the Chamber, they would've done the same thing."

It was Professor McGonagall who had first discovered that Harriet and Ron, along with Professor Lockhart, were missing. After alerting the staff, she had immediately called Dumbledore, not caring what Malfoy or the Ministry would say, and he had rushed over. It didn't matter that he had technically stepped down.

Hogwarts and her students were still his first priority.

After that it had been a matter of contacting the family of the students. Professors Lupin and Snape were already at the school, as well, so all that had remained was to contact Harriet's remaining family and the Weasleys, along with Neville's grandmother. Augusta had already been informed that Neville had been taken in the Chamber of Secrets, but Dumbledore had called her back in to Hogwarts.

The ten of them had convened in Dumbledore's office where they had tried to figure out what to do next. Sirius had been ready to go down into the Chamber himself, but Dumbledore, as much as he wanted his students back safely, could not yet justify the danger, especially since a member of one of their faculty had already disappeared after  _supposedly_ going after the monster. And there was still the glaring fact that none of them knew where the Chamber even was.

Arthur was currently trying to calm down his wife after Snape's rather straightforward comment that there was a good possibility that Harriet and Ron had been taken into the Chamber, when McGonagall let out a scream.

Every one turned to the doorway where the professor was currently looking and immediately understood why she had reacted the way she had. Standing at the entrance to the office were Ron, Neville, and Harriet, covered in a mixture of what looked to be slime, muck, and (in Harriet's case) blood.

Fawkes, who had until this moment been sitting happily on Harriet's shoulder, didn't seem pleased with McGonagall's scream and cooed angrily in reply before flying to his normal perch in Dumbledore's office, seemingly unaffected by all that had happened. He watched curiously as the strange humans embraced their young, worrying over them, even though they were clearly alright.

"You saved him! You saved him!" Augusta was muttering, clutching Neville closely and peppering his face with kisses (a rare display of affection) as Neville tried to squirm away. "Oh, how did you do it?"

"I believe we'd all like the answer to that," Snape said from his position in the opposite corner of the room.

Harriet stepped away from her parents and placed the items in her hand on the table: the hat, the sword, the diary, and the basilisk fang. Ignoring the gasps of some of the occupants in the room, she sat down and very carefully began to explain.

She started with finding the note Hermione had left, then, apologetically, listening in on the staff meeting. Harriet explained that she and Ron had gone to find Lockhart to tell him that they thought they knew where the entrance to the Chamber was, but had found him packing his things.

It was Ron who, rather delightedly, explained that they had forced Lockhart to go see Moaning Myrtle with them and, more importantly, that his memory charm had backfired and left him a sniveling mess.

Nobody seemed too sorry about that.

Then, Harriet explained about heading inside the Chamber finding Neville. It was here that Neville explained how he had managed to end up in the Chamber in the first place.

"It was late," he said hesitantly, "After dinner. I- I know I was supposed to go back to my dorm right away, but I heard Professor Sprout had gotten this rare type of flower that- well, never mind. Anyway, I wanted to see it and I thought there wouldn't be any harm in going to her office really quickly, but on my way there, something just- something hit me over the head. Then, I woke up in the Chamber with Harriet and Ron."

It was at this point Harriet began to explain again, this time starting off with Tom Riddle. She had to admit that she had been having dreams about him (finally, Remus understood what she had meant when she mentioned it to him) and that she was very much surprised to see him, well, alive. Harriet told them that Pettigrew had been down there- that had surprised them- and that Riddle was Voldemort.

The strongest reaction Harriet received, of course, was when she explained that Riddle had, essentially, killed her. Her parents fussed, as parents tended to do, but she hastily went on to explain about waking up in "King's Cross" and Regulus's explanation about the horcruxes and Voldemort's soul and the prophecy.

For the first time since beginning her narrative, Harriet looked up from where floor to face Sirius.

"Regulus wanted me to tell you that he's sorry- for everything- and that he still loved you, even after you ran away."

Sirius didn't say anything. He  _couldn't_ say anything, really, but he smiled in gratitude.

After that, Harriet finished with surprising speed, mentioning that she had used Sectumsempra on Pettigrew without knowing what it would do (Snape paled a bit when he realized that Harriet had managed to get ahold of his old book) and that it was thanks to Fawkes that Harriet had managed to kill the basilisk and survive its venom.

There was a strange sort of silence when Harriet finished her story. It wasn't a normal sort of silence or an uncomfortable sort of silence. It was the sort of silence where nobody really knew what to do next.

Dumbledore finally said to Ron and Harriet, "At the start of the year, you two were warned that if you caused anymore trouble, you would be expelled from Hogwarts. Well, I now have proof that some of us must sometimes eat our words."

Ron and Harriet grinned at each other as Dumbledore went on.

"You will each receive special awards for service to the school and Gryffindor will be awarded 200 points- each. Do not look too pleased," Dumbledore cautioned. "I have no doubt your parents will be giving you suitable punishments."

Molly could only nod weakly, still in shock.

"Somebody should go check on Professor Lockhart," Dumbledore pointed out mildly, but when nobody looked to keen on it, he didn't bring it up again. He told Augusta next "Why don't you take Neville down to see Madam Pomfrey. After that, some hot chocolate would no doubt do wonders for him."

Neville was shuffled out of the office. Then, Dumbledore turned to the Weasleys, "Somebody needs to inform the Ministry of all that has happened and, of course, get our gamekeeper back. As a Ministry worker, Arthur, perhaps you would do the honor?"

Mr. Weasley took the hint and lead his family out the office, leaving only Harriet and her family. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said, "No doubt you have some questions, Harriet?"

Harriet did. She had a lot of questions. But she started with the most pressing one. "Is he really gone now?"

Dumbledore didn't hesitate when he said, "Well, there's still the matter of the other horcruxes, but I am sure Severus and your mother will have no trouble finding a suitable way of destroying them, thanks to your generous donation."

He gestured to the basilisk fang and Harriet smiled.

"I was also wondering," she said slowly, "About the horcruxes. Voldemort was a Parselmouth. So am I. Is that because of his horcrux inside of me?"

"Most likely," Dumbledore conceded.

"Then how was I able to understand him talking to the basilisk after that horcrux was gone?" Harriet wanted to know. For this, Dumbledore had no answer. Neither did anybody else.

Remus said, "Magic is a complex thing, Harriet. There are still mysteries that we have yet to solve. This will no doubt be one of them."

Harriet wasn't too satisfied with this answer, but was relieved that she would still be able to talk to Isaura. "When I first came to Hogwarts," she began, "The hat- well, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Her family looked surprised, but not disapproving, much to Harriet's relief.

"Does that mean it could sense Voldemort in me?" Harriet asked. "And Slytherin's power and-?"

"Yet, it still put you in Gryffindor," Dumbledore said gently. "Harriet, you do happen to have many of the qualities that Slytherin valued in his students: his own rare gift, Parseltongue, along with resourcefulness, cunning, and a certain disregard for breaking the rules, which you no doubt inherited from your father."

Her father laughed, but made no attempt to dispute it. He couldn't really. Dumbledore had more than enough evidence of the trouble he had caused.

Dumbledore said, "The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, though. Do you know why?"

"I asked it to," Harriet said immediately.

Dumbledore exclaimed, "Exactly! Do you see, Harriet? It is our  _choices_ that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Harriet sat, stunned, and it was no doubt clear by the look on her face that she didn't really believe him. Dumbledore then said, "If you want any more proof that you belong in Gryfindor, Harriet, I suggest you take a look at the sword.

She was hesitant and, at this, Dumbledore  _truly_ smiled. He gestured to the sword. "Pick it up, Harriet. What do you see?"

Harriet picked up the sword carefully and looked at it in the light. She saw something that she had missed earlier in the Chamber: an engraving. "This was Gryffindor's sword!"

"Precisely," Dumbledore said proudly. "And only a  _true_ Gryfindor could've pulled that sword from that hat." Dumbledore paused and then said gently, "On that subject, Harriet, I must thank you. For Fawkes to have brought you the Sorting Hat, you must've been incredibly loyal to me down in that Chamber. I do not know what you said or did, but I am grateful."

Harriet blushed and looked down at her shoes bashfully. When she looked back up, she met Snape's eyes. A part of her wanted to blurt out  _Why did you do it?_ and  _How could you?_ and the like, but she held back. Now wasn't the time, she felt. This conversation should be between her and him, not with her parents and Dumbledore listening. She'd ask him another time.

Dumbledore told her, "You must be very tired." Harriet snorted at the understatement. Every inch of her hurt. "I have no doubt that Madam Pomfrey has prepared a bed for you, Harriet." Harriet looked worried, but Dumbledore said gently, "Everything else will be taken care of by us. It has been a trying night for you. Please, try-"

The door to Dumbledore's office banged open and  _Lucius Malfoy_ of all people walked in. Harriet's attention wasn't caught by him, though. It was more focused on the house-elf behind him.

Dobby!

No wonder Dobby had known all of those things when he tried to warn her! He had been living right under Malfoy's nose! He had told her that whatever it was didn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who and Dobby had been right. It had to do with  _Tom Riddle._ Harriet felt a surge of admiration for Dobby. Brave, brave, Dobby.

Oh... Malfoy was talking:

"-outrageous!"

"I fail to see what is outrageous about it," Dumbledore said serenely. "The monster is dead, the students are safe, and the real perpetrator has been found."

"Who was it then?" Malfoy demanded.

"The same as it was last time," Dumbledore said easily, "Lord Voldemort. Only this time, he was acting through somebody: Peter Pettigrew."

Malfoy paled. "Pettigrew has been caught?"

"No," Sirius said shortly, "He's dead. Lucky for you, isn't it?"

"Well, of course," Malfoy said smoothly, not rising to Sirius's bait. "It's a stroke of good fortune for us all. The students are safe. And, of course, Dumbledore has been reinstated."

"It was, of course, an extremely clever plan on Pettigrew's part," James said, looking Malfoy directly in the eye. "As one of his closest friends while at Hogwarts, I never would have believed him capable of coming up with something like that."

"No doubt the Dark Lord assisted him," Malfoy said stiffly.

"Yes, very true," Remus said, "It's very fortunate that Harriet and Ron managed to figure it all out, though. If they hadn't poor Neville would've been blamed for the entire thing- especially since his family, one of the most prominent pureblood families at the Ministry- have been so vocal about their support for Arthur Weasley's Muggle Protection Act, not to mention the raids the Ministry are currently conducting. Why, the entire thing might be put to a halt."

Lily nodded somberly and added, "And Minister Fudge, of course, would've been praised for his foresight, in bringing the Dementors here earlier this year, and Dumbledore might've been forced to retire indefinitely, since he sent them away. Yes, we are very lucky that the entire thing was discovered."

Malfoy smiled slightly, but it was clearly strained.

Behind Malfoy, Harriet watched as Dobby pointed at Lucius, then at the diary, and then hit himself in the head. It took Harriet a moment to realize what Dobby was trying to tell her. She had already known, of course, that it was because of Lucius that the diary had managed to find it's way into Ron's cauldron, but it was only now that she realized that she had forgotten to mention that part to her family.

"Aren't you curious, Mr. Malfoy," Harriet said slowly, looking him in the eye, "About how the diary managed to get inside Hogwarts in the first place?"

"How should I know?" Malfoy scoffed, not taking her seriously.

"Because you put it in Ron's cauldron while we were at Flourish and Blotts," Harriet said firmly. "You know Pettigrew was Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, so you replaced one of Ron's books with the diary,and once Ron got to Hogwarts, Pettigrew stole it."

Malfoy sneered and took a step towards her. Harriet held her ground, staring back up at him. She took down a basilisk today. Malfoy didn't scare her.

"Prove it," he hissed, before turning around and leaving, calling out, "Come on, Dobby!"

Harriet could only watch helplessly as Dobby followed Malfoy, tripping in his haste. At one point, Harriet heard Dobby squeal with pain. Suddenly, she had an idea. She turned to Dumbledore to ask him, but it seemed her question had already crossed his mind.

"Go ahead," he said.

Harriet beamed and grabbed the diary, ignoring the looks of her parents, and raced down the hall towards Malfoy and Dobby. She paused and hastily removed one of her socks- giving a fleeting thought to Hermione, who had given her these wonderfully, fluffy socks (embroidered with moving Snitches!) this past Christmas- and jammed it between the pages of the book. She slipped her shoe back on and raced around the corner, calling out, "Mr. Malfoy!"

Malfoy turned, annoyed. "What?"

Harriet held the diary out to him, "You forgot this."

Malfoy took it, sneered, and threw it aside. Dobby caught it and looked it at confusedly. Harriet mouthed, "Open it," as Malfoy ranted.

"You'll meet the same sticky end as your grandparents, Harriet Potter," Malfoy sneered. He turned around and called, "Come on, Dobby."

Dobby, though, didn't come. He had done what Harriet had said and opened the book. He was clutching the sock (currently covered in an amazing amount of slime from the Chamber) to his chest, eyes wide and watery.

"Master has given a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby."

What's that?" spat Mr. Malfoy, turning around. "What did you say?"

"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby — Dobby is free."

It took Malfoy a moment, but he realized what Harriet had done, and lunged for her. "You've lost me my servant, girl!"

Dobby was ready for him, though.

"You shall not harm Harriet Potter!"

Dobby held up his hand and there was a loud bang. Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below.

He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby still had his hand up. Malfoy hesitated.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harriet Potter. You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy looked between Harriet and Dobby and then glanced over their shoulders. Harriet turned around in time to see her parents, Sirius, and Remus coming down the hall afterwards. Lucius had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.

"What was that about?" Sirius asked, approaching them. Harriet just laughed, and looked at Dobby, who now wore his lone sock proudly on his foot.

"Do me a favor, Dobby," Harriet said with a smile. Dobby's ears wiggled joyfully. Harriet said, "Never save my life again."

* * *

**Harriet Potter, Hogwarts- June 2, 1993**

The rest of the year had flown by. By breakfast that day, Hagrid was back and the petrified students were all awake. Harriet and Hermione had ran to each other in the Great Hall when they saw each other, hastily apologizing as they hugged, but it was unnecessary. By the time they sat down for breakfast, it was as though they had never fought.

Harriet and Ron filled Hermione in (she was quite pleased to learn that her sock had freed Dobby from his servitude) and then, well, gone to class. Harriet couldn't help but be amazed at how  _normal_ everything was after that.

Neville was doing better. He had begun working even more closely with Professor Sprout, especially now that his grandmother had grown more supportive of his herbology.

Professor Snape hadn't changed a bit. He was as churlish and snarling as always, but, to Harriet, anyway, he seemed to favor the Slytherins a bit less, and even smirked at Harriet in public from time to time. Harriet understood- he couldn't go from being  _Snape_ to Snape in a day. She still hadn't asked him about his time as a Death Eater, but she had the entire summer coming up.

Right now, Harriet was headed over to Remus's office. Exams were over and everybody was getting ready to go home the next day, but Harriet wanted to see Remus, first. Isaura was wrapped comfortably around her wrist, hissing softly. Harriet knocked on Remus's door and peeked her head inside. "Hello?"

Remus smiled at her as he waved his wand to pack up. His books and clothes folded themselves neatly into their suitcases. "Harriet! Please, do come in!"

"Your packing is much neater than Lockhart's," Harriet noted, letting Isaura slither off her wrist to explore the room.

Harriet thought back to all those months ago when Lockhart had been hastily trying to run away. Somebody had finally gone ahead and found him in Myrtle's bathroom. He was convinced that he and Myrtle were soon going to get married, much to Harriet's amusement. Sadly, when they finally dragged him (kicking and screaming) to St. Mungo's, the healers there managed to convince him that no, he and Myrtle were not engaged  _or_ dating. Lockhart's chances of making a full recovery, though, were slim.

"Thank-you," Remus smiled, "Although I'm not sure if that's much of a compliment. Are you ready to go home?"

"Very!" Harriet laughed.

Remus nodded sympathetically, "The others pestering you too much about that article?"

Harriet nodded, thinking back to the breakfast following the whole event, only a few hours after Harriet killed the basilisk. She had almost chocked on a sausage when Hedwig brought  _The_   _Daily_   _Prophet_  in to the Great Hall, Harriet's face taking up most of the front page, followed by a ridiculous headline and the story of how Harriet defeated the basilisk and survived the Killing Curse  _again_ and  _all_ of it.

Written by Rita Skeeter.

Nobody was sure how Skeeter managed to get her information and, even months later, she refused to reveal her source.

Harriet made a face and asked Remus, "Think we'll ever know how she did it?"

"Probably not," Remus admitted. "There is some good that came of it, though."

"Fair enough," Harriet conceded. The public, reading the article, had been outraged that a student (especially the Girl Who Lived) had been put in such danger. The blame immediately fell to Fudge, who had already been facing scrutiny for his decision to put the Dementors at Hogwarts, along with allegations of taking bribes, and the Ministry had immediately moved for a vote of no confidence.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was, much to Harriet's delight, the favorite for the new Minister.

"I can actually spend summer at home," Harriet said delightedly.

Remus smiled and placed some papers inside his suitcase, pausing for a moment. He held onto a particularly thick piece of parchment that Harriet recognized immediately. He smiled conspiratorially and Harriet found herself realizing why he was a Marauder.

"Since this is the last day of school," he began formally, "I am officially no longer your teacher. As such, I feel no remorse about giving you this."

He handed the Marauder's Map back to her and she took it gratefully. She said, "Want to take a look at it one more time? For old time's sake?"

Remus helped her spread it out onto the table and was the one to activate it. A majority of the students and professors were in their dorms and offices respectively, getting ready for the train tomorrow. Remus gave a nostalgic sigh and was about to close the Map up when Harriet noticed something.

She held out her hand to stop him and then pointed at a spot on the Map in Remus's office. "What's that?"

Next to the spots labeled  _Remus Lupin_ and  _Harriet Potter_ was another spot labeled  _Rita Skeeter._ Harriet and Remus whirled around rapidly, looking all over the office, but aside from Isaura, there was nobody there.

It was Harriet who saw the beetle on the windowsill. It was also Harriet who remembered seeing the beetle all over Hogwarts  _and_ in the Chamber. It was Harriet who put everything together and tugged at Remus's sleeve. She pointed over to it.

When he realized what she was implying, he muttered, "No- It can't be-"

He looked down at the map and then back up at the beetle. He held his fingers to his lips and motioned for Harriet to be quiet. He walked behind his desk and pulled out a small jar, casting a quick spell on it with his wand (later, he would tell Harriet that he had made the jar unbreakable). He took the lid and the jar and walked slowly towards the spot where Skeeter was resting, ready to capture her.

Before he could though, she flew away-

"No!"

"Blast it!"

-and right into Isaura's open mouth. Harriet and Remus could only watch as Isaura gnawed and then swallowed the beetle, satisfied. They both ran back over to the Map and saw, much to their astonishment, that  _Rita Skeeter_ was gone.

"Well, then," Remus muttered.

"Huh," was all Harriet could manage.

Remus cleared his throat and looked at Harriet speculatively. Seeing her curious expression, he explained, "I think that this is a rather suitable ending for our story. Don't you agree?"

She did.

And so it was.

_The End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it for this story! I have a set of one-shots following the series that'll I'll start posting in the next few days or so. I hope you enjoyed :)


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